Taken
by Cheshire6845
Summary: Inspired by the movie of the same name, Chakotay chases after the bad guys that have taken his family.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer:  I don't own any of the characters. I don't make any money off this. I'm just happy somebody made the characters and the universe they live in so I could play with them.

Author's notes:  The important one: This is slightly AU. Why? Because, Chakotay and Janeway have a kid and have been married since New Earth. Wow, how'd that happen? Well, not going to get into specifics (I'm not your sex edu. teacher) but they stayed on NE long enough to get together. So in this story, their daughter Madelyn is around the age of six.

I started writing this after I saw the trailer for the Liam Neeson movie, Taken. I was inspired and wanted to give our characters that sort of situation in their universe. Have no fear, I'm posting this in parts (cause it is long) but it is finished. So, no worries that you will be left with an unfinished story.

Lastly, then I promise we'll get on with the story, Thanks have to go to QS, my beta extraordinaire, without whom this might be buried in a folder somewhere with a lot fewer commas. That being said, all mistakes are mine cause I still play with it even after QS sends it back to me.

* * *

Taken by Cheshire

"_Janeway to Chakotay."_

He chuckled as he tapped his comm. badge to answer. He'd only left the planet earlier that morning. He couldn't imagine what she needed already. "Go ahead."

"_Why are you laughing at me?"_

This only made him laugh harder because he could hear the mix of exasperation and amusement in her voice. "I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing at something Paris said."

Tom raised his eyebrow, overhearing the conversation.

"_You never laugh at Tom's jokes. Admit it, you were laughing at me."_

"Okay, I confess." He could hear the tones of their home alarm system being input. "What are you doing at home? I thought you had that conference today."

"_I do. In thirty minutes, but I can't find the PADD with my speech notes on it. Do you know what I did with it?" _

He could hear her footsteps and knew by placement that she was searching the kitchen first. "All of your PADDs were in your study last time I saw them."

"_I took all of those with me to the office this morning, and the one I worked on last night wasn't among them."_

Chakotay cleared his throat. "Did you ask Madelyn?"

He could practically see Kathryn stop in midstride halfway down the hall as she walked towards her study in the house.

"_No, I didn't ask her. Why?"_

He hated ratting his daughter out, but there was really no way around it. "She had a PADD with her this morning at breakfast."

"_Damn. Maddie?"_

He listened as Kathryn's footsteps headed back up the hall to the entrance way. "She's still with you?"

"_Yes, I'm dropping her off at Mom's before I leave. Maddie, honey, did you have one of my reports this morning?"_

Chakotay could hear his daughter's answer easily over the open comm. line.

"_Is that Daddy? Can I talk to him?"_

He intervened. "You're just going to have to go look in her room, Kathryn. It'll be faster than asking her what she did with it."

"_Fine. Here, talk to your daughter."_

Chakotay heard the quiet click and then the muffled handoff as Kathryn took her comm. badge off and handed it to her daughter.

"_Dad?"_

"Hey, baby, how was your day?"

"_We went to see the Phoenix today!"_

"Did you get to touch it?" He heard her laugh at him.

"_Of course not, Daddy. You aren't allowed to touch it."_

"You're right, I forgot." Chakotay was about to ask what else she'd seen on her class trip when he heard Kathryn's voice again. "Who's Mom talking to, honey?"

"_I don't know."_

He could hear Madelyn take a few steps towards the hallway.

"_There's a couple of men with her."_

"With her?" Chakotay exchanged a look with Tom, but before he could ask his daughter to clarify, he heard a muffled thump and then glass breaking. If he placed the sound right, the only glass was an antique china cabinet in the hall. "Madelyn, is Mom…"

"_Maddie, run!!"_

Kathryn's scream tore across the open comm. line, freezing Chakotay's blood in his heart.

"_Mommy?"_

"_Get the kid."_

"_Don't you touch her! You stay away from her!" _

Muted thumps accented grunts as the sounds of a struggle followed Kathryn's desperate roar.

"Madelyn? Madelyn!" Chakotay was on his feet, unable to remain sitting. He could vaguely hear Tom's voice putting in a call to Starfleet Security. "Madelyn, listen to me! Get out of there!"

"_But they've got Mommy…"_

The scared crying of his daughter seared his soul, and he hated himself for his next words. "Mommy can take care of herself." More crashes as it sounded as though Kathryn was definitely putting up one hell of a fight. "Maddie, listen to me. I want you to run into the kitchen and use the emergency transport like we showed you. Maddie? Are you listening to me? Go to the kitchen. Go now."

"_Don't let the kid get away." _

A frustrated growl of a scream that Chakotay easily recognized as Kathryn was silenced with a loud thud, and he sank into the command chair, wondering if he'd just heard the death of his wife while praying that his daughter would escape. Tom's voice echoed across the bridge as he argued with someone over a separate comm. line, but all Chakotay could concentrate on was Maddie's sobbing, heaving breathing as he imagined her small hand clenched around Kathryn's comm. badge. She just had to push the button on the control panel in the kitchen, and she would disappear in a ray of light, materializing at a random selection of secure places.

His hope died less than a second later.

"_Daddy…it won't work…the lights aren't on…Daddy…they're coming."_

"Maddie, listen to me. Hide. Crawl into the pantry or one of the cupboards, and close the door. Do it now."

"_Okay…Daddy….please…help me…"_

Her cries tore at his heart. "Maddie, I want you to listen to me. I need you to be brave. I need you to keep Mommy's comm. badge for as long as you can, okay? Those are bad men that were with Mommy." He almost choked as he forced the next words out. "They're going to take you."

"_Daddy?"_

"I'm coming for you. I promise."

Before he could say anything else, Madelyn screamed.

* * *

Thank you also to splv, Maja, and Meg for reading parts of this at some point or another and highly encouraging me to keep going!


	2. Chapter 1

Notes, disclaimers, acknowledgments can all be found in the prologue.

* * *

Ch. 1

The quiet whirring of the holoimager coupled with its barely audible click preserving another piece of history was grating on Tom's nerves. How many images did they really need of the broken glass, overturned table, and splintered shelves? The small blood spatter near the bedroom door seemed to require an entire tetraquad of memory all by itself. He wondered, not for the first time, if this many images were always recorded or was the investigation team overdoing it since it was the house of Admiral Janeway.

The holoimager clicked again, and Tom attempted to refocus his concentration to the conversation Chakotay was having with the commander of the security team. The security team that had been too late to do a damn bit of good except to secure the house after the fact. The security team that had only been dispatched after Tom had gone through three different operators in his attempts to reach Starfleet Security from Voyager. By the time the damn security team arrived, Tom could've launched a shuttle and gotten to the house himself. If only _Voyager_ hadn't been in the middle of a refit, they would've had transporters, and been able to stop this before it started.

"So, Captain, after your daughter screamed, then what happened?"

Tom tensed, waiting for Chakotay's response, which he wasn't entirely sure would be verbal. The seemingly uncaring way in which the security commander was posing his questions was likely to get him thrown against the wall.

"The comm. line stayed open, and a male voice spoke on it," Chakotay growled. Cutting off the next obvious question, he continued, "The voice told me I would never see my wife again."

"He didn't mention your daughter?"

"He said I would get her back….eventually, _if_ I didn't come after them."

The commander looked up from his PADD. "And what did you say then?"

Chakotay's jaw worked back and forth as he tried to articulate his response. "The line went dead…I didn't get a chance to respond."

Tom frowned. That wasn't how he remembered the conversation ending.

_  
The silence on the bridge of the ship was deafening after Madelyn's scream turned into a muffled whimper and boots could be heard walking away. The sounds of pots and pans being scattered carelessly could also be heard over the open channel, but no one said anything. A slight scraping sound as the discarded comm. badge was picked up was the only warning before a voice so different from Madelyn's whispered entreaties for help spoke over the line. _

"_You are never going to see your wife again."_

"_Who is this?" Chakotay asked, the fury in his voice evident._

_The voice on the other end continued as if he'd said nothing. "And if you ever want to see your daughter again, you won't try to find us."_

"_What do you want?"_

_The voice gave a mirthless laugh. "We already have what we want."_

_This time, it was Chakotay that continued as if nothing had been said. "I don't know who you are or what you intend to do, but if you let my family go, this will go no further. If you don't, I _will_ find you, and I _will_ kill you."_

_The tiny hairs on the back of Tom's neck had stood on end at the menacing quality present in the former Maquis's usual subdued baritone. He thoroughly and utterly believed every word Chakotay had just said. The voice on the other end didn't seem to understand the danger he was now facing by daring to lay a finger on Kathryn Janeway. Not to mention Madelyn. _

_The voice simply laughed. "Good luck."_

_The line clicked and went dead._

The comm. badge belonging to Kathryn Janeway had been found in the kitchen. Crushed. They'd taken images of that, too.

"Well, Captain Chakotay, it sounds like your wife was the primary target." The commander's unsympathetic voice cut again into Tom's musings. "Can you think of anyone who may want to harm your wife?"

"We left most of our enemies in the Delta Quadrant, but she did recently return to this area of space carrying a ship full of former Maquis and a couple of reformed Borg. Maybe you heard about that. I'm sure not everyone was happy to see us." Chakotay started moving into the security commander's space as he talked, and Tom stepped cautiously closer with the intent to hold the bigger man back if the two came to blows. "She also brought news to over a dozen families about their loved ones and how they'd died under her command. I'm sure that might have angered some people. Let's not forget, she's married and has a kid with the former leader of the Maquis that she was sent to capture. I'm sure that didn't go over well with everyone back here at home. Not to mention the fact that she's an admiral now, so every single day that she goes in to work, she makes life and death decisions that not everyone agrees with. So, _Commander_, my answer to your question is yes; I can think of a lot of people who may want to harm my wife."

An uncomfortable silence descended as the two men faced off against each other. Almost everyone in the house had given up the pretense that they weren't paying close attention to the growing argument. The audible click of the holoimager taking another picture broke the silence that had lain thick over the room, and the commander wisely backed off, inventing a report that he needed to check on. Tom slowly slid into Chakotay's view, wanting to offer some form of support.

"Does Gretchen know?"

The question took Tom by surprise, although it probably shouldn't have. "Yeah, she called the house line about fifteen minutes ago." Chakotay swore under his breath but waited for Tom to finish. "She'd been expecting Madelyn for the afternoon, so when she didn't show…"

Chakotay straightened and looked towards the house comm. "What did you tell her?"

"One of the technicians answered first." Tom almost smiled, feeling sorry for the young man that had immediately incurred the wrath of Gretchen Janeway. "Luckily, I was nearby and took over the call, but by then she knew something was wrong. I told her Kathryn and Madelyn were missing, but I didn't get into details. She didn't believe me, of course, wants you to call her."

Chakotay nodded, acknowledging that he'd heard Tom, but his mind kept straying to the sounds he'd heard over the line and matching them up in his mind with the destruction that now lay at his feet.

Kathryn's voice and then glass breaking had been first. The glass cabinet that her mother had given as a housewarming present now had two shattered panes, and the door hung on only one hinge. Had Kathryn been thrown against the cabinet, or had she pushed someone into it as she had yelled for their daughter to run?

Framed holoimages that had been arranged on the table littered the floor near where the head of the table would have been, but the table itself now lay on its side. The pictures had been knocked off before the table was overturned. Had Kathryn been thrown across its surface, scattering the pictures in her wake? Had she tried putting the table between her captors and their daughter, only to have it upended?

One of the pictures on the wall was crooked, almost torn off its hangings, and the wall next to it had a smear of blood on it. The DNA match and the hair strands found stuck in the blood had confirmed it was Kathryn's. Had that been the thud he'd heard? Had her head been struck against the wall with such force it had knocked her unconscious, silencing her furious cry?

"Chakotay?" Tom's voice was quiet. Cautious. He too had already imagined the scene and how events must have played out. "What do you want to do now?"

Chakotay's dark eyes found Tom's face. He thought his heart had stopped and his blood had frozen in his veins in that first moment he'd heard Kathryn's screams. But since then, a fire had been building, and a monstrous roaring beast that he thought he'd silenced a long time ago was unfurling in his chest. The pain and fury he'd experienced upon first seeing his home planet after its destruction all those years ago was nothing but a matchstick to what he felt now.

"Now?" His eyes slid across the security personnel all milling around his home. He had no confidence in them. The same as he'd had no confidence in Starfleet before Kathryn. He locked eyes on the commander that was in charge. "For seven years we did things our own way, Tom. We never lost Kathryn out there. I'm damn sure not going to lose her here." He returned his gaze to Tom's face and knew he saw the same resolve there that he felt. "We do this ourselves."


	3. Chapter 2

For notes and disclaimers, please see the prologue.

* * *

Ch. 2

Kathryn Janeway was having a delicious dream. Chakotay's hands were smoothing scented oil across her back and down her legs, massaging liquid warmth into her muscles, leaving her skin tingling everywhere he touched. She breathed in the heavenly scent, not immediately recognizing it, but enjoying it regardless as his strong fingers kneaded her shoulders, arms, buttocks, thighs, and expertly manipulated her feet. She groaned deep in her throat and pushed into the touch as much as he would allow.

Without a word being spoken, his hands left her, and she regretted their absence immediately. The air moved with his departure, causing a cool breeze to caress her oil-soaked skin. She smiled into the pillow; he'd be back. Almost every massage he'd ever given her had resulted in one of two things. Either she fell asleep, or they progressed into even more pleasurable activities. Stretching against the sheets, she felt the softness of the sheets against all of her exposed skin, and realized that she was definitely not wearing anything. He'd better hurry back. It had been one thing to lie around in the nude early in their relationship, but with the possibility of Maddie running in to jump on the bed…Kathryn gasped, her eyes snapping open, her mind fully awake as she pushed herself up. Maddie!

The room around her spun at her sudden movement, and she had to clench her eyes shut again and take deep, gulping breaths. Even as she regained her equilibrium, her mind raced through her last memories. Two men in the house. No. Three. A third one had come in at the last minute. They'd had a hold of her. One had gripped her feet while the other had wrapped his arms around her from behind. Even as she'd bucked in their grasp, she'd seen Maddie duck into the kitchen. That's when the third man had appeared. He'd turned towards the kitchen. That was the last thing she remembered clearly. But if Maddie had made it to the kitchen…

Kathryn opened her eyes again, glancing down immediately to see her very exposed chest. Moving instinctively to cover herself as much as possible, she looked around and spied a robe on a chair near the bed she was lying on. She immediately grasped at it, grimacing in disgust as she put her arms through the sleeves. It was readily apparent that the massage oil she'd thought she was dreaming about was, in fact, real as her skin glimmered in the low light of the room. Her skin crawled, and she immediately tamped down on the thoughts of whose hands had been on her. She could worry about that later.

The robe barely reached her knees, but it was better than nothing. At least now she was on her feet. The room was larger than her bedroom had been on Voyager, with the bed she'd woken up on easily twice as large. The flooring beneath her feet was a smooth surface but with an oddly warm feeling to it. She could feel a distinctly slight vibration to it which made her automatically think she was on a ship. There were no view ports, but two different doors were opened off the room. Leaning to the side, she could see in the one directly in front of her enough to see a sink of some sort. Assuming it was a bathroom or refresher of some sort, she concentrated on the other door.

Even as she moved towards it, shadows moved across the light filtering in, and she stiffened in response, but no one came inside the room. Setting her chin, she walked with more confidence than she actually possessed towards the door. There were two people in the adjoining room that could only be described as a parlor, a man and a woman, but only the woman reacted immediately to her presence, although Kathryn knew they were both aware of her.

The woman had striking features and a predatory gaze that locked onto Kathryn as she emerged. Kathryn had never seen someone of her species. She was slighter in stature than Kes had been and had long hair that was such a dark blue color it could almost be black. She had some sort of small facial ridge that appeared as a small vertical line under each eye, but her skin was what immediately caught Kathryn's attention. It appeared iridescent in the low light, and Kathryn couldn't decide if it was a light blue or more of a cream color. She did notice that the girl was showing plenty of it as she wore only a halter-like top and pantaloons that hung low on her hips and were sheer except in a very strategic area.

"Ah, Admiral, you've decided to join us. Sheila thought you might be waking soon."

Kathryn's attention turned to the man that had stood up from one of the couches to greet her. Her eyes narrowed as she took in his rotund body with pasty skin and beady eyes. Her voice was almost a growl. "I remember you."

"_Captain Janeway, there's someone I'd like you to meet." _

_Only her deep-rooted political training had kept her from groaning as Admiral Brislin's sugar coated voice interrupted the conversation she'd been attempting to have with Harry Kim's parents. This was the fifth function in as many days that she'd attended, but unlike all the other ones, there were actually people at this one that she wanted to talk to, like the Kims. _

_Unfortunately, it seemed like every admiral in Starfleet had someone that wanted to meet the famous captain of Voyager, and until she had every single one of her crewmembers taken care of, she couldn't afford to not be cordial. One never knew when you might need to call in a favor. _

_Pasting a false grin on her face and receiving a wink from Harry, she turned to greet the admiral. Throwing his arm around her shoulders like they were old friends although she'd only recently made his acquaintance, he guided her towards a rather portly looking male standing by himself off to the side. _

"_This is Milo Cyronius, the best purveyor of fine artifacts you'll ever meet in the Alpha Quadrant."_

_Kathryn had barely hidden her grimace as Milo's sweaty palm had grasped hers and then brought it to his lips. Solid black eyes that were too small for his face never met hers, but it didn't keep them from looking at the rest of her. As politely as she could, Kathryn tugged her hand away from his, resisting the urge to rub it against her pant leg. _

"_Mister Cyronius," she inclined her head in greeting but refused to say it was a pleasure to meet him. "What sort of artifacts do you deal in?"_

"_One of a kind pieces." Even as he spoke, he barely held her eye for more than a moment, his eyes focusing instead on her shoulders, her hands, her hips. _

_Usually a roving eye like his gave her the creeps as she felt she was being mentally undressed. Milo's gaze felt more calculating, as though he were cataloguing her. With a barely concealed glare at the admiral, Kathryn tried again to gain his attention. "My _husband_ is interested in paleontology. Perhaps you and he could discuss…"_

"_You misunderstand Captain Janeway; I don't deal in dusty old pots and broken pieces of clay." His eyes had met hers and held them for the first time when she'd stressed the word 'husband', and now he actually seemed affronted at her thinking of him as a paleontologist. "I deal only in the most unique works of art. Specimens of beauty that are so singular men are willing to pay obscene amounts of money to possess them."_

"_Forgive me, I…misunderstood," she said, bristling at the man's nature and wanting nothing more than to depart his company. Catching sight of Owen, she found her perfect avenue of escape. "If you'll excuse me, I see Admiral Paris, and I'd like to speak with him before he leaves for the Beta Quadrant tomorrow."_

_Kathryn walked away, not caring whether she offended the pompous man or not. The last thing she heard exchanged between the two men before the crowded room swallowed their conversation was Admiral Brislin boasting about knowing her. "I told you, didn't I?"_

She'd met a lot of people in those first few weeks after arriving home. Very few stood out in her mind as people she'd remember, but Milo Cyronius had been one of the few. And not for a good reason. She repressed a shudder at the thought that it had been his hands she'd felt massaging her.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.

"Kathryn, my dear," he paused. "May I call you, Kathryn? Won't you join us? I'm sure you're feeling a little put out at the moment, but we'll get that all cleared up momentarily."

He completely ignored her negative reaction to using her name, and she was not overly surprised when he sat back down with his back to her, forcing her to join him if she wanted to continue the conversation. Keeping an eye on the woman, Kathryn slowly circled the couch. She considered sitting on the arm of the couch just so he would have to look up at her, but the thought of the robe accidentally riding any higher on her thigh made her take the seat across from him.

"I demand to know why you've brought me here."

Milo chuckled. "I have missed dealing with Terran women. It's been too long." He turned his attention towards the woman still standing near his shoulder. "They really are direct and to the point. Much less complicated than our usual alien royalty, wouldn't you agree?" Receiving the slightest of nods from his companion, Milo turned his attention back to Janeway. "I must apologize, Kathryn; Sheila is not fond of idle conversation. Why, not too long ago, we had a young male on board that was half Bolian and half Andorian. He had the most amazing blue skin but without those silly antennae or facial bifurcation. Unfortunately, he did have the Bolian inclination to talk…a lot."

For the first time, Kathryn saw a flicker of emotion cross the woman's face. Irritation. Having been cornered by Chell on a single occasion in the mess hall after Neelix's departure, Kathryn could sympathize. But she wasn't exactly in an empathetic mood. "I'm sorry, but what does any of that have to do with me?"

Milo looked taken aback at being interrupted. "Do you not realize, Admiral, how rare it is to find a species compatible with Bolians? That young man was literally one of a kind. Although I'm sure the people that acquired him from me have by now removed his vocal chords."

Emotion once again flickered across Sheila's face as she and Milo seemed to share a private joke.

"What do you mean 'acquired'?" Kathryn asked, her mind beginning to form the first inclination of the real threat she was facing.

He leaned back against the cushions of the couch. The irreverent manner of a few minutes previous was now gone. "I wasn't exaggerating, Admiral, when I said I deal only in the most unique works of art. Beautiful specimens that men and women both covet, and are willing to pay top price to own. The price that young Bolian half-breed fetched paid for half this ship."

Kathryn felt disgust rising in her throat. "You sell people?"

"The oldest commodity in the galaxy."

"And you intend to _sell_ me?"

"To the highest bidder."

Feeling enraged at the very idea, Kathryn had barely shifted her bodyweight, intending to stand in indignation when intense pain tore through her collarbone and neck, sending piercing bolts of agony all the way down to her toes and numbing her extremities. She collapsed back onto the couch, sinking mercifully into the cushions and away from the pressure that had come from above her head. Wrenching her eyes upwards, she saw Sheila standing over her. She slowly withdrew her hand away from the nerve cluster in Kathryn's shoulder, letting her fingers graze the admiral's chin as she pulled away. Kathryn had never even seen the small woman approach her.

"I wouldn't underestimate Sheila if I were you Admiral." Milo's voice drew her attention, and Kathryn had to blink back tears in order to see him properly. "She may be slight in stature, but she is quite…formidable."

Milo and Kathryn both watched as Sheila slowly stepped back until she was by his side again. She gave Kathryn a small knowing grin before her features once again went blank.

"Another thing you should probably know, Kathryn: Sheila has been doing this sort of thing for longer than either you or I have even been alive. And while we have no desire to physically harm you as that would be bad for business, you should know that I have never met someone more capable of causing pain without leaving a single mark than this woman." He briefly touched Sheila's arm. "Her knowledge is impressive."

"Yes, I can see that," Kathryn said, resisting the urge to roll her shoulders in an effort to release some of the burning pain that seemed to be trapped in a ball beneath her skin where the alien woman had touched her. Her hands tingled as the numbness slowly began to wear off. A Vulcan nerve pinch was more comfortable than that had been; at least it knocked you unconscious.

"Well." Milo clapped his hands together. "Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, we can get down to business. Since you are _only_ human, you would normally not be worth my efforts. However, the heroism and accolades you have managed to accumulate since your return from exile, not to mention your natural beauty and fire, made you the perfect selection to be my piece-de-resistance for my final curtain call."

"I beg your pardon."

"I'm retiring, Kathryn, but before I go, I'm securing my financial affairs enough to last me five life times. Very soon, the most exclusive auction in the quadrant will be held. Only preferred clientele with the most distinguishing tastes will be invited. Bidding will start in the stratosphere and go up from there when they see what I have to offer." He stood from the couch, clearly enjoying telling her about his pursuits as he walked over to a small bar located in the corner of the room. Sheila's eyes never left Kathryn as Milo pontificated. "No other place has ever before offered a selection quite like mine. A Koropian princess. A Second Daughter of Myrmidon. A Renavi Duke. I have even acquired one of the witches of Dathomir."

"And then, to top it all off." He returned to the couches, carrying a beautiful tray bearing an intricately patterned serving set. Pouring what Kathryn assumed was coffee into one of the small delicate cups, he pushed it across the table towards her. "There's you." He looked her over again as he sipped his drink. "Although, we will have to do some work to get you ready in time."

Kathryn was glad that, despite her longing for the beverage in front of her, she hadn't drunk any as she was sure she would've just choked on it. "Get me _ready_?"

Milo continued assessing her. "Don't worry, Kathryn, it'll be like a trip to Risa for you. We'll get some bounce and shine back in that hair of yours. Tone up those less than firm muscles. And your skin. I know that space travel is naturally hard on the human epidermis, but what did you do out there for seven years? Bathe in warp coolant?"

Kathryn couldn't believe it. She thought she'd faced just about everything the universe could throw at her. But this man's complete nonchalant disregard of her and the basic tenants of personal rights was infuriating. The smug smile on Sheila's face didn't help matters.

Milo ignored her as he continued to review his mental checklist of what he felt needed to be done. "What about her eyes and her skin tone? Think we can fix those in time?" He received a confident nod from Sheila. "I knew I could count on you. You always do work wonders."

Kathryn jumped at Sheila's singular moment of inattention and got to her feet. She heard a quiet snarl when the smaller woman rushed at her, and she struck out with the base of her palm, her fingers curled as she attempted to land the open hand punch. The nymph was simply too fast, and while Kathryn felt her palm land a glancing blow, she knew it wasn't going to be enough. She felt the smaller woman's strength as her arm was wrenched up and into her back, the force of the move pushing Kathryn forward until she was pinned down on the low surface of the coffee table. Not wanting to give up so easily, Kathryn flailed out with her free arm, grasping for the serving set that had been on the table, wanting to find anything that she could use to try and defend herself. She found nothing, and her free hand soon joined her other in a strained position held high up on her back.

"You're good Janeway," Sheila leaned over her from behind. Her voice rasped like rocks scraping against each other. "That's the closest anyone has come to tagging me in fifty years." She gave a quick twist to Janeway's wrist, causing her to cry out at the sudden pain as her thumb almost touched her arm. Sheila's breath was hot against the side of her face. "You'll pay for that."

"Now, now, ladies," Milo scolded, having never moved from the couch. He leaned down and picked up the fallen tea set from the floor. "You could have broken this."

"You can make all the plans you want," Janeway grunted, feeling Sheila's knee dig into the small of her back. "But they're…never…going to happen."

"Ease up, Sheila," Milo said, an amused tone to his voice. "I think the Admiral has something she wants to say." The pressure on Kathryn's arms and back eased, but she was kept pinned to the table. Milo leaned down so his face was level with hers. "Now, what is it you were saying?"

"You _need_ my cooperation for this to work," Janeway managed to force out, the skin of her cheek moving against the table as she spoke. "And I can assure you, that will _never_ happen."

Milo gestured with his hand, and Sheila released Kathryn completely, backing away from her. He watched as the admiral slowly sat up and found himself impressed with the glare she leveled at both of them despite the mussed hair and rumpled robe. He smiled at her. "Oh, I think you'll cooperate."

Ignoring the instinct to massage away the stinging in her wrist, Kathryn looked between the two of them. Sheila had relaxed again, leaning casually against the arm of the couch. That more than Milo's confident assertion worried her. They had a trump card. "And why would I do that?"

"Because we have your daughter."

* * *

_A little shout out to the world of Star Wars included in this chapter. ;)_


	4. Chapter 3

Notes...disclaimers....page 1

* * *

Ch. 3

The walls of the parlor closed in on Kathryn at Milo's casually offered statement. She had to take a deep breath in to steady herself. Her blood was still pumping furiously from her altercation with Sheila and her adrenalin levels had to be through the roof, but all of that felt as though it turned to ice in her veins. Her nostrils flared, and she gritted her teeth as the last moments in her home replayed in her mind.

The utter look of shock on her daughter's face as she stood staring from the front of the hall, watching as her mother fought with two strangers. Frozen in place by confusion and fear. Chakotay's strong voice still issuing from the open comm. line. The moment broken as Maddie had looked down at the comm. badge she still grasped before turning away. Turning towards the kitchen. Kathryn had seen her move even as a strong hand had clamped down over her mouth from behind. Maddie was fast; she was smart. She would've had plenty of time to reach the console and transport out. Kathryn had bitten down on the hand over her mouth at the same time the guy in front of her had trapped her kicking legs together. And then the third man had appeared at the end of the hall. No! Maddie had just needed a few more seconds, but Kathryn couldn't be sure. Pain had exploded in the back of her head, blotting everything else out.

But, surely, there'd been enough time for Maddie to push a button. Just one button and she'd have been safe. Kathryn couldn't believe anything else, didn't want to believe anything else. She glared at Milo still sitting smugly across from her. Her voice was a harsh rasp. "You lie."

"Do I?" he asked slyly before pushing a button, activating a comm. screen on the wall. "Take a look."

Kathryn rose on shaky legs and moved towards the screen. She clinched her fists as she saw Madelyn sitting on the floor of a room not unlike the one Kathryn was in now, playing some sort of game with a young Orion woman that appeared to be around Icheb's age.

"As you can see, Kathryn, I do hold all of the cards," Milo said, sidling up behind her. He leaned casually against the console and spoke into it. "Stefan?" A large humanoid male with faint Cardassian skin ridges moved into view on the screen. "Would you bring the young Miss Janeway to see her mother?"

Kathryn's heart pounded when Madelyn stopped playing the game and looked up to the viewscreen, obviously able to hear Milo's voice. Stefan nodded and shut off the screen, leaving Kathryn staring at her own reflection in the dark panel. "If you've harmed her…in _any_ way…I swear…"

"You'll what?" Milo asked, utterly confident. He waved his hand in the air absently as he walked away from her and back towards the couch. "Relax, she hasn't been hurt. I even had the young slave girl's pheromones neutralized for the time being. Your daughter won't even have so much as a headache."

Concentrating on her own nails digging into her palms, Kathryn swallowed tightly and managed to control the rage that was building inside her. And the fear. This entire ordeal had just become incredibly untenable. Slowly, she turned back to face the two people in the room that in some ways she now feared more than any adversary she'd ever faced in the Delta Quadrant.

"You know, you were right Sheila," Milo commented happily. "This _is_ fun."

* * *

"We've got trouble."

The bold statement interrupted his thoughts as the PADD was placed in front of him. He barely glanced up. "Tell me something I don't know."

"He's putting together his own investigation."

"Damn."

"It's going to complicate things."

Crossing to the window, he couldn't help but think of simpler times. "Damn Maquis…anyone else would just trust Starfleet to do the job. They wouldn't set out to do it themselves."

"He's also using his Maquis friends to help him."

"What Maquis?" He turned back to the young man reporting to him. "There aren't that many of them left."

"The ones he served with." The young man paused. "The ones from _her_ ship."

He sighed. He'd never thought this was going to be easy, but he hadn't expected this much trouble from the woman's former crew. "Well, we'll have to use that against them."

"How do you mean?"

"Focus the investigation on them," he explained. "Distract them enough that they worry more about themselves instead of her."

"Using the Maquis is dangerous. We need this problem to go away," the young man argued, "not explode in our faces."

"It doesn't have to be public knowledge. It's an investigation. Keep it quiet."

The young man glowered. "You better be right about this."

* * *

"This is crazy. Either all the security cameras in the area were on scheduled maintenance, or they didn't capture anything." B'Elanna slammed her hand against the wall panel. "The 24th century and we can't find a single holocamera that took an image within a kilometer of their house for a ten minute window during the middle of the day."

"Is the ten minute window out of the ordinary?" Tom asked, shifting Miral to his other shoulder.

"No, not really. Just damned inconvenient." She turned, wanting to take Miral but knowing her current mood would just imprint on the baby. "Maintenance breaks and systematic shutdowns happen all the time with the security grid. Ten minutes every twelve hours."

"And whoever did this just happened to pick the ten minutes of the day when cameras weren't recording?" Tom whistled. "Sounds like a conspiracy to me."

"But the ten minute shut down is never at the same time. Every day a different ten minute window is used so that it appears random, precisely so something like this can't be planned."

"But is there a list somewhere that someone could access and know when the ten minutes would occur?"

"I don't think so. I'll check, but I think it's randomly generated. It could be a coincidence," B'Elanna sighed, shaking her head. "A one in seventy-two shot...that's a hell of a coincidence."

"Coincidence or not," Seven said, joining the conversation. "It does not explain the malfunctioning of the emergency transporter within the home."

"Well, over the comm. line, we heard Kathryn deactivate the house alarm system," Tom considered. They had all listened to the recording more than enough times to be able to repeat it word for word by now. "Is it possible she accidentally deactivated the transporter as well?" B'Elanna and Seven stared at him in disbelief. "I didn't say it was likely; I just asked if it were possible?"

Seven recovered first. "No. Admiral Janeway would've had to open a completely different command protocol set in order to disengage the emergency transporter. There is no reason she would have done so."

"She told you to call her Kathryn, Seven," B'Elanna chided offhand. "Besides, Madelyn specifically said there were no lights on at all. Even if Kathryn had turned it off," she held up a hand to stop Seven, "which is highly unlikely. That wouldn't explain there being no power to the panel whatsoever."

"And yet the panel was active when security arrived?" Receiving a nod, Seven continued. "Could the child have been mistaken?"

"Well, sure," Tom shrugged. "Maddie's just a kid, she was scared. She could've hit the wrong button."

"Are we talking about the same people here?" B'Elanna exploded. "Kathryn Janeway does not _accidentally_ turn off emergency transporters. And Maddie was raised on a starship. A starship that was under attack more often than not. She's used emergency transports before under duress. She could probably dismantle the entire transporter panel and put it back together if she needed to. If Maddie said the panel had no lights on…the panel had no lights on."

Tom raised one hand in his defense. "I'm simply playing devil's advocate, hon. These are the questions the actual investigation team is considering right now, and even if we know better, it doesn't mean they won't accept the more plausible explanation."

"What more plausible explanation do your arguments suggest?" Seven questioned. "Are you suggesting that Admiral Janeway and Madelyn were _not_ abducted from their home?"

"No, I'd say we're pretty clear on that, at least," Tom admitted. "I just have a gut feeling Starfleet isn't looking in the right direction. They're treating this like it's a ransom, but it's been two days, and we haven't heard anything. What's the point of a ransom if you don't demand anything? "

"We're all missing something," B'Elanna griped, throwing another PADD on the coffee table. "Tom, you said they told Chakotay he'd never see Kathryn again, but that eventually Madelyn would be returned to him. That doesn't even sound like ransom."  
"Do you believe they intend to kill the Adm…Kathryn?" Seven asked.

"They might've killed her already," Tom suggested darkly.

"_That_ is not acceptable."

B'Elanna looked up from the couch at Seven's vehement denial. "Seven?"

"We cannot pursue this investigation with the mindset that the Admiral is deceased. It would not be," she paused, causing Tom and B'Elanna to exchange a look of concern, "logical. Making the assumption that the Admiral is dead will narrow our search parameters. To ensure that we do not miss any possible avenues of investigation we must assume that she and Madelyn are alive."

The silence following Seven's emotional speech stretched past the point of comfortable as Tom and B'Elanna stared at the blonde, dumbfounded.

"Okay," B'Elanna cleared her throat, "that sounds…reasonable to me, Seven."

"Yeah," Tom agreed, nodding his head. "So, uh, Seven, how's life treating you without your fail-safe device?"

"I have found it to be disconcerting at times," she admitted. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Tom gave his wife a significant look, and she brought the conversation back to their original topic.

"Well, since we aren't allowed to examine the evidence ourselves, what do we work on next?" B'Elanna asked. "Motive? Suspects?"

"Starfleet Security already has a prime suspect in mind," Chakotay announced from near the front door causing all three of them to jump. "Me."


	5. Chapter 4

Notes and disclaimers....see prologue

* * *

Ch. 4

Turning her back on the only other occupant of the room, Kathryn tugged at the belt of her robe. She could already smell the tang of the massage oil in the air and knew from previous sessions that this time her masseuse, one of Sheila's minions, would be concentrating on toning her muscles. The sharp scent that reminded her of spices and mint told her as much. When the sessions were meant for conditioning her skin, the lotion they used was of a much milder scent. She'd lost count of how many beautifying sessions she'd endured the past several days, but the full body sessions happened at least twice a day. As mortifying as these imposed massages were, Kathryn had to grudgingly admit that her body hadn't felt or looked this good in a long time.

Shrugging the robe off so that she was now fully exposed, she laid face down on the provided table. Almost immediately, the peppery smell increased, and she felt the warmed oil being smoothed onto her back. Her gut clenched at the contact, and every fiber of her being revolted at the passivity she affected. But what choice did she have?

_The doors to the outer corridor slid open and Madelyn, along with the man named Stefan, entered the room. For a moment, Madelyn did not see her mother, and her wide eyes simply surveyed the room and its occupants. Finally seeing Kathryn near the far wall, she tore across the small space, launching herself into her mother's open arms. That had almost been Kathryn's undoing. _

_Knowing full well that their reunion was being eagerly observed, it had taken every mental strength Kathryn possessed to not cry all over her daughter's apparently unharmed condition. Reluctantly, she pulled back, holding Madelyn out from her so she could inspect her better. "Are you okay?"_

_Maddie nodded. "They told me you were sleeping but that if I was good, I could see you when you woke up." Kathryn pushed her daughter's hair back, not trusting herself to speak as her daughter continued. "I was so scared, Mommy. I saw that man hit you…"_

"_Shhh, I'm okay," she assured her, kissing her palm. "Miral hits harder than that guy."_

_A noise of disgust drew Kathryn's eyes back to the other occupants of the room. She assumed by Sheila's curled lip that she had made the noise. Kathryn slowly stood up, keeping Maddie's hand tucked in hers. Milo gestured towards the couch, and she reluctantly moved to it, taking a seat._

"_Am I to understand that you have reconsidered my request?" he asked knowingly. _

"_She stays with me."_

_Milo pretended to consider his answer before speaking. "No, I don't think so."_

"_It wasn't an option."_

_Maddie squirmed, hearing her mother's tone. She was usually in a lot of trouble when she heard her mother's words clipped as if she was biting the letters off. She looked cautiously between her mother and the large man and knew that this was one of those times where Uncle Tom would caution her to not draw attention to herself._

"_All right," he said, glancing pointedly at Maddie and then back to Kathryn. "The child can stay with you in the evenings…"_

"_At all times." Kathryn cut in._

_Milo's amused manner evaporated. "You seem to be laboring under the delusion that you have control in this situation, Kathryn. Let me assure you, you do not. Now, I will allow you to keep your daughter in the evenings, if and only if, you cooperate with us throughout the day." His voice lowered an octave. "And any time that you choose not to act appropriately, it will not be __**you**__ that suffers the consequences. Have I made myself clear?"_

"_If you so much as lay one finger on her…"_

"_It will be solely a result of your actions."_

_Kathryn's mind raced, and she glanced up at Stefan, the younger man that had brought Madelyn to the parlor. She swallowed hard. "And if I…behave?"_

"_She will spend her hours in a parlor much like this one. Revale, the Orion girl, will watch over her. And Stefan," he paused and followed Kathryn's glance to the half Cardassian still holding position by the door, "well, let's just say that Stefan will mete out any punishment that may be required." _

"_I want to stay with Mommy," Maddie interrupted, earning a squeeze from her mother's arm, but she'd already drawn Milo's attention._

"_Oh, I know you do, sweetie." _

_Maddie pushed further into her mother's side. She didn't like this man calling her that. It wasn't at all like when her Daddy would say it. _

_He didn't seem to notice though as he'd kept talking. "And I know that your mother wants nothing but the best for you," he paused, eagerly drinking in Kathryn's protective posture, "but your mother is going to be very busy during the day as she and I are going to be working together." His small beady eyes held Kathryn's this time. "Aren't we, Kathryn?"_

_All she could do was nod her agreement. _

The masseuse's open palm slapped against the back of her thigh and Kathryn grit her teeth. The slap was an indication it was time to turn over. Since her coerced agreement to cooperate, she'd endured facials, manicures, exfoliative scrubs, and the promise of other things yet to come. The massages, however, were easily the hardest to bear. As Milo insisted that whoever bought her was going to see her entire body, his beauty treatments naturally needed to be done full frontal and back as well. The personal nature of the exposure had become increasingly hard to bear, and Kathryn had come to regard all her sessions as a new kind of torture, employing every method of resistance she'd ever been trained in. She refused to relax, but knowing that Madelyn's continued safety depended on her compliance, she submitted to their ministrations.

Despite her tentative agreement to cooperate, when Sheila had first approached her and insisted she disrobe, Kathryn had balked. She'd known damn good and well the lithe woman could've easily pinned her in a minute as already evidenced, but that would hardly be conducive to good skin tone as Milo had so casually explained. Instead, he'd just continued to play the one card Kathryn had no strategy to defend against.

"_No."_

"_Now, Kathryn, really, why are you being so obstinate about this?" Milo came out from behind the bar, carrying a drink. "I mean, it's not like she hasn't already seen and inspected you while you were unconscious, anyway."_

_Kathryn blanched, and her mouth went dry. The fevered dream of Chakotay massaging her, his hands traveling across her bare skin, gently caressing **all**__ of her muscles. Her eyes met Sheila's, and the little smile the woman gave only served to intensify her loathing. "You bitch."_

_Now the woman's teeth showed as her smile stretched further at Janeway's recollection of their first encounter. Sheila moved to the balls of her feet, preparing to lunge, and Kathryn crouched instinctively to defend herself. Milo's exaggerated sigh cut between the two women._

"_Sheila, if you continue to throttle her every time she reacts poorly, we're going to end up with bruised merchandise." He walked between the two women unconcernedly. "It's like this, Admiral, either you can disrobe and endure a fabulous massage that will ultimately only make you look better, __**or**__ we can have dear Madelyn disrobed and well…we'll just see what happens from there."_

Kathryn had thrown her hands up in surrender. The thought alone of what he suggested made her nauseous. It hadn't helped any that Milo had stayed in the room for the entirety of that first session, although she had to admit he never once had looked at her with lust. She was simply a piece of merchandise to him. Something to be examined for flaws and defects.

That first session with Sheila, or second, depending on how you looked at things, had been more painful than necessary, with the woman delighting in every tender area she found as she systematically went through each of Janeway's muscle groups. Milo took notations, cataloguing which were injuries that needed to be treated and which were simply weak areas that caused pain. He'd questioned her about the small scars on her back as well, evidence of the Borg spinal clamps that the doctor had removed after her assimilation. It would've taken several subsequent trips to sickbay to rid herself completely of the blemishes, and as Kathryn never looked at her back, she'd seen no reason to subject herself to more of the doctor's care. Milo had immediately taken note to have them removed. No one wanted a personal slave to remind them of the Borg.

"Open your eyes."

Kathryn held back a retort at the command from her current masseuse and held very still as the girl put a single drop of milky liquid in each of her eyes. She blinked rapidly at the slight burning sensation, hating that she didn't know its purpose, but relieved that it signaled the end of the session. By the time her sight cleared completely and she sat up, reaching for the discarded robe, she was alone in the room. Maddie would be brought to her shortly, and they would discuss each other's day, with Kathryn leaving out the more disturbing aspects of hers. She moved towards the sleeping quarters, eager to put on the provided sleeping attire. It was only in these few moments of solitude that she allowed herself to agonize over the situation. At night, watching Maddie sleep contently next to her, she couldn't help but strategize and rehearse every possible scenario she could think of to get them out of this, but before Maddie's arrival for the evening, her thoughts would inadvertently cry out the same thing every night. _Chakotay, where are you? I need you._

_

* * *

  
_


	6. Chapter 5

I make no money off this because they aren't mine...I'm fairly certain you already know this. :) For other notes, check the prologue.

* * *

Ch. 5

"They're trying to blame you for this?" B'Elanna raged at Chakotay's announcement.

"Not trying…they made it very clear; they _are_ blaming me for this."

"But, how?" Tom asked. "I mean, I was with you at the time Kathryn got kidnapped. I heard the call, and we were on _Voyager_. How much more of an alibi do you need?"

"Apparently Commander Hughes," Chakotay answered, referring to the commander in charge of the investigation, "has found evidence that the entire comm. call you heard was prerecorded."

"What?!" B'Elanna spluttered. "Okay, whoa, wait…can you just start at the beginning?"

"_Sir, Captain Chakotay is here to see you," the lieutenant serving as secretary announced._

"_Send him in."_

_Chakotay entered and immediately spotted Commander Hughes sitting on a couch near the side wall of the admiral's office. He couldn't help but feel a surge of distaste for the man.  
_

"_Captain, thank you for coming. I understand this is a difficult time for you," the Admiral said, standing up from behind his desk and offering his hand to Chakotay.  
_

"_Difficult?" Chakotay shook the proffered hand but dropped it quickly. "Difficult doesn't really describe it, sir."_

"_Yes…well, have a seat, please."_

"_May I ask what this meeting is about, sir?" Chakotay asked, reluctantly taking the offered chair. "Have you determined anything new with the investigation?"_

"_Nothing substantial, I'm afraid. Just a few…discrepancies we were hoping you could clear up for us." _

"_Of course, anything I can do…"_

"_Is it true you've started your own investigation?" Hughes asked, cutting Chakotay off midsentence._

_He turned slowly to eye the commander. "Yes, some of my people have volunteered to help work on it."_

"_People like Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres?" When Chakotay nodded, Hughes cast the admiral a smug look. "Both former members of the Maquis. And I believe you also have Seven of Nine helping you 'investigate', is that correct?"_

"_Yes,_ _**Commander**__, that's correct." Chakotay replied tightly. "Why?"_

"_The way I hear it, you and Seven of Nine have been spending a lot of time together recently. What else have you been investigating?"_

"_I don't know what you're talking about," Chakotay frowned. "Seven has been helping Starfleet engineers with the refit of Voyager while Commander Torres has been taking some extra maternity leave. She's been down in Engineering a lot replacing systems."_

"_And what about you, Captain? Have you been spending a lot of time down in Engineering?"_

_Chakotay nodded warily. "I've been closely monitoring what new systems are being installed in Voyager. So, yes, I've been down in Engineering a lot recently."_

"_You aren't an engineer, Captain."_

"_To survive in the Delta quadrant, we all had to roll up our sleeves and get dirty, Commander. I've worked on just about every system on that ship. I know my way around Engineering just fine."_

_Hughes lip seemed to curl up in distaste. "So, you're just a hands-on kind of officer?"_

"_Yes, what does that have to do…"_

"_And Seven of Nine? Have you been 'hands-on' with her, as well?"_

"_What?"_

"_Can't imagine your wife took that too well," the Commander sneered._

"_My wife? What the hell are you talking about?"Chakotay got to his feet, refusing to be talked down to._

"_Just how long were you and the Borg having an affair behind Admiral Janeway's back before she found out?" Hughes asked, standing toe to toe with Chakotay._

"_You son of a bitch-"_

"_Gentlemen," the admiral banged his hand down on his desk, "that'll be enough. Captain Chakotay, please, sit down. Hughes," he continued, looking pointedly at the commander, "you're dismissed."_

"They think you're having an affair with Seven?" B'Elanna asked incredulous. "Where would they even come up with something like that?"

"I have no idea. The only thing I can even think is that some of the refit personnel saw us together…maybe working in a Jeffries tube or something."

Now that his fury from the meeting was wearing off, Chakotay felt exhausted. "Other than that…there's nothing to even suggest…"

Seven cocked her head to one side. "While I do not find you repulsive, Captain, I would not be inclined to engage in any sort of extramarital affair with you."

"Thank you, Seven," Chakotay managed while B'Elanna just stared at the blonde.

Tom snorted, "Not to mention Kathryn would've blown you both out an airlock."

"And thank you for that, Tom."

"You are in error. I believe she would have used a phaser rifle," Seven commented dryly. At the disbelieving looks directed at her, she straightened. "The adm…Kathryn has often suggested using the injection of levity into intense situations."

Chakotay's heart clenched at how true Seven's words were. Kathryn really had done a miraculous job with her. He often wondered if it hadn't been for Maddie's calming influence if Kathryn wouldn't have given up on Seven a long time ago. He couldn't count the times he'd come home to find Kathryn pacing their quarters, Maddie sleeping soundly against her shoulder because it was the only way Kathryn wouldn't throw and break things because of yet another disagreement with the obstinate Borg.

Seven had gone head to head with Kathryn more than anyone else on the ship including himself. They'd come to refer to the Borg's formative years as training for when Maddie became a teenager. And now here was Seven, standing in his living room, applying the lessons Kathryn had so painstakingly tried to teach her, and Kathryn couldn't even be here to see it. That Starfleet would now try and pervert the relationships that the former Borg had managed to build incensed him further. If Kathryn were here, she'd have that commander's pips. And possilby his first born.

"What was that bit about us, though? Helping you investigate?"

"What?" Tom's question broke into Chakotay's thoughts. "Oh that. Well, as far as Starfleet is concerned…you are all in on it too."

_  
The door had barely closed behind Commander Hughes' departure when Chakotay confronted the Admiral that had called him in. _

"_Sir, with all due respect," he seethed, "my wife and my child are missing! What the hell am I doing here?"_

"_Even in this day and age, Captain, when a crime like this is committed, more often than not, the perpetrator has some connection to the victim." The Admiral spread his hands open on the desk. "That unfortunately makes you a person of interest in this case."_

_Chakotay bristled but said nothing, forcing the admiral to continue._

"_It has been suggested that you and Admiral Janeway were going through a bit of a rough patch." He held up a hand as though a friendly gesture. "Now I've been married for over twenty years, Captain, I understand that marriage is not all wine and roses."_

"_Kathryn and I are __**not**_ _going through a rough patch, and believe me, we have gone through them before." The incident with Ransom and the Equinox sprang to Chakotay's mind, but he wasn't about to start pointing out specific instances. "So believe me when I say that I would recognize it if we were having a rough time."_

_The admiral pretended to concede the point. "The Parises are close personal friends of yours?"_

"_Tom and B'Elanna are indeed close friends of both myself and Kathryn."_

"_I see." He pursed his lips. "And you were with Tom Paris at the time of incident?"_

"_I was on the bridge of Voyager. Tom was there as well as two or three others."_

"_And B'Elanna Torres, she was-"_

"_At home with their infant daughter."_

"_She's a pretty good engineer from what I hear."_

"_The best."_

_He nodded. "Uh huh, and she served with you prior to Voyager?"_

"_Yes, she was in the Maquis with me."_

"_And Tom Paris?"_

"_Briefly." Chakotay thought he could see where this was going. "As I'm sure you already know."_

"_Do any of you stay in contact with your old companions?"_

_"You mean our old Maquis companions?" He received the Admiral's nod. "No, sir. They all died on Tevlik's moon."_

_The older man seemed to consider this for a moment before offering, "Not all of them."_

_Chakotay's knuckles were white he was gripping the arms of the chair so tightly. With every question the admiral asked, his fury was growing and he was becoming in serious danger of striking the man. "Sir, may I be blunt?"_

_The Admiral sat back in his chair, pushing slightly away from the desk. He inclined his head. "By all means."_

"_What __**exactly **__are you suggesting happened?"_

_Steepling his fingers in front of his face, he regarded Chakotay for a long moment before speaking. "The evidence suggests that you were in some way involved in the abduction and disappearance of your wife and child, and that you have the motive and means with which to accomplish such an act either directly or with the help of accomplices."_

_The entire universe around Chakotay seemed to tip on its axis sending him careening over the edge. He lost all perception of his surroundings save for the man sitting across from him. "I see."_

"_If you admit to it now and cooperate, it'll go easier on you, son."_

_The roaring in Chakotay's ears threatened to drown out what the admiral was saying._

"_Your home has a state of the art alarm system that was conveniently turned off. Your daughter has an emergency transport system that you reported as malfunctioning, and yet our engineers can find nothing wrong with it." The admiral's tone had become hard. "How do you explain these things, Captain?"_

_The beast in Chakotay's chest screamed in agony at his inability to strike at the enemy across from him, but he remained silent not deigning to answer the questions he himself wanted answers to as well._

"_You told your daughter, and I quote, 'Mommy can take care of herself'," the Admiral continued outlining his case. "That doesn't sound like much of a loving husband to me." _

_Chakotay's own words repeated back to him made the bile rise in his throat._

"_And yet, you told your daughter to hide, and you've started your own 'investigation'. What happened, Captain? Was Madelyn not supposed to be there? Did you get cold feet at what your 'friends' might do to your young daughter? Was it only Kathryn they were supposed to kill?"_

_Chakotay stood up, knocking his chair over with the back of his knees, his entire body shaking. "My wife is __**not**__ dead, and the longer you investigate me, the more time you waste."_

"_You'll forgive me if I don't take you for your word."_

"_Are we through here?"_

"_For now," the Admiral nodded. "Don't leave the planet, Captain. We may have need to contact you again shortly."_

B'Elanna couldn't believe it. She was enraged on Chakotay's behalf, but she was also worried. If Starfleet was investigating them, the real kidnappers were getting further and further away. "So now what?"

"Now?" Chakotay looked at her. "Now I'm going to do exactly what they expect. I'm going to pay a visit to Sveta. They want the Maquis involved with this? I'll make sure they're involved."

* * *

Thank you to everyone who has left reviews. As always, they're greatly appreciated.


	7. Chapter 6

Thanks to all those who are still with me....if you're just joining us the notes and disclaimers are in the prologue.

* * *

Ch. 6

"Revale introduced me today to one of the dabo girls. Said she was half Vulcan," Maddie laughed as she got ready for bed in their current quarters on board Milo's ship.

"The crew of this ship is certainly diverse," Janeway muttered to herself as she listened to her daughter's day. Since arriving, Kathryn had only left the quarters she'd been assigned a few times, and even then, she'd been beamed to the places Milo wanted her to go like the medical bay. Her quarters were spacious, but it was a cell regardless of how nice a cell it was.

Fortunately as it turned out, Madelyn had seen much more of the ship. Either the Orion girl, Revale, or the half Cardassian, Stefan had arrived each morning they'd been on the ship and escorted her elsewhere. After the first three days, Revale had been allowed to start bringing Madelyn places other than the parlor as business aboard the ship was slow due to the workup for the auction. Kathryn hadn't exactly been thrilled to find out Madelyn now knew how to play dabo and tongo, but there wasn't much she could do about it either; at least her baby-sitters hadn't seen fit to expose her to anything too risqué as yet. As odd as it was to think that her six year old daughter may learn how to out bet Tom Paris, it was the personal tidbits her daughter had been able to pick up that were of more interest. Without realizing it, Maddie had learned all sorts of things, and by extension, so had Kathryn.

Revale had been on the ship and under Milo's 'care' for as long as the Orion could remember. Her life here, as entertainment, was all she had ever known, and while he never seemed to understand her interest, Milo rewarded her with new books whenever he was pleased with her. She'd even stayed for a few minutes one evening after dropping Maddie off to ask Kathryn a question about current Earth literature. She'd hurriedly excused herself when Kathryn had asked her to stay, though.

Stefan was still more of an enigma. Madelyn said he never talked much, but that he'd been with Milo for several years. As soon as he'd been old enough to 'get away from his mother and _her_ people' as he'd put it, leaving Madelyn even more confused as he refused to speak further about it. Kathryn immediately thought of him as a child born of rape. His half Cardassian features and the idea that he'd not gotten along with his mother's people made her think he must be from one of the border colonies. He was about the right age to have been born during the war with Cardassia. When Maddie told her that she planned on asking him about it again, Kathryn had told her it was rude behavior and to not bring it up again. The last thing she needed was for Maddie to antagonize her watchers.

"And I ran into a Ferengi today," Maddie continued as she brushed out her hair.

"Just a Ferengi?" Kathryn asked, using a cloth to wipe off as much of the excess massage oil on her skin as she could. "You sure he wasn't part Klingon or something?"

"No, Mama, you don't understand, I _ran into him_." She clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. "I was kind of worried, but Revale said not to be. She said he was just a tailor and that he was leaving the ship tomorrow."

Kathryn froze and stared at her daughter, an idea forming in her mind. "Did she say anything else about him?"

"Not really." Maddie shrugged unconcernedly. "Just that it was only the second time she'd ever seen him."

"Maddie, where were you when you ran into him?"

"In the corridor, of course," she answered with the air that her mother wasn't too bright for having asked such a question.

"No, honey," Kathryn knelt beside the bed, putting her hands on Maddie's knees. "Where in the corridor? Was it this deck? Was he near a door?"

"Yes, he had just come out of a door, that's why I almost ran into him."

"And did you see inside? Did it look like a gaming room, or did it look like this room?"

"There's no gaming rooms on this deck, Mama. Stefan told me; it's only guest rooms."

Kathryn bit down on her tongue. If she tried to rush her daughter, she'd never get the full story. Taking a breath, she tried again. "So you ran into him on this deck?"

Madelyn nodded.

"Do you remember where? How many doors down from this one?" Kathryn quickly added the second question, hoping for a more specific answer.

"It was the opposite side of the hall," Maddie said, thinking out loud. "And we passed…four doors…two on each side."

Exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Kathryn hugged her daughter. "Thank you, honey. That's just what I needed to know."

* * *

Despite having figured out the locking mechanism to the door two nights previous, Kathryn was still surprised to find there were no guards in the corridor outside her room. Apparently, Milo felt pretty secure about his merchandise. Moving with purpose down the corridor, she had to admit, even she hadn't tried escaping before now because they were on a ship. Where was she going to go? The threats against Maddie notwithstanding, she'd resigned herself to waiting for this auction to have a plausible chance for both of them to escape. But now, if she could just convince a Ferengi that there would be profit in helping her, she could at least get word out to the Federation, to Starfleet…to Chakotay.

The past hour while Maddie had been falling asleep, Kathryn had been reviewing in her mind all the rules of acquisition she could think of to help support her case to the Ferengi. Out of all the species for her to have to trust to help her, a Ferengi would not have been her first, second, or third choice, but it was what she had. And she at least knew what the bottom line would be to convince him.

Latinum.

Straightening her shoulders, Kathryn rang the chime on the fifth door and prayed to anyone who would listen to let it be the correct door.

The doors slid open, allowing her entrance to a parlor slightly larger than her own room. She stepped far enough into the room so that the doors slid shut behind her. Sitting on the couch, facing the door lounged a gaudily dressed Ferengi. Kathryn inclined her head slightly. "Good evening."

"Even on _this_ ship the females wear too many clothes," he said with a note of disgust as he stood and walked closer to her. "Did Cyronius send you to me?"

"In a manner of speaking."

He circled her, eyeing her speculatively. "You are nothing more than a hew-man, what would you be doing here?" He stopped in front of her his eyes lit with excitement. "Do you give good oo-mox?"

Biting back the disgust she felt at the thought of caressing the Ferengi's lobes, Janeway managed to ground out her words in an almost polite tone, "No. I have a business proposition for you."

His entire demeanor changed in an instant, straightening away from her, reassessing her as he stepped further back. "But this is Cyronius's ship."

"My name is Kathryn Janeway. I'm an Admiral with Starfleet, and I am being held here with my daughter against our will. I need your help."

The Ferengi grimaced. "That doesn't sound very profitable to me."

Janeway grit her teeth. "I can make it worth your while. All you have to do is deliver a message for me."

"Worth my while?"

"Yes, I can arrange for you to be paid handsomely for your assistance."

"How much?

"Enough."

"Ha!" he exclaimed triumphantly, "enough…is _never_ enough."

"Rule of acquisition number ninety-seven," Janeway retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah…but do you also know rule number ninety-four, Admiral?"

Janeway smiled tightly, refusing to vocalize it.

"Females and finances _don't_ mix," he spat out and strode past her to the bar, taking out a bowl and several bottles and containers. "Janeway….Janeway… you know, I have heard of you."

"Then surely you know that I could be a valuable…customer." Janeway watched as he poured several contents into the bowl and they began to froth.

"New customers on a ship like this are dangerous, and I have a very lucrative deal with Cyronius." He finished making the drink and inhaled the fumes coming off the top of the glass. "Like an aphrodisiac bouquet. Care to try it?"

Kathryn raised her hand to ward off the beverage, even more wary now of its contents. "What if I offered you a better deal than Cyronius?"

"A _better_ deal?" he stood up straighter. "I'm listening."

"I understand that you own a clothing business, yes?" She waited to receive his nod, thankful for the random details Maddie had shared with her. "Surely a businessman of your…prestige…has heard of the starship _Voyager_." He nodded again. "Imagine the profits you could make if the captain of that ship publicly endorsed your exquisite craftsmanship as the best in the Alpha Quadrant."

He took a large gulp of the bubbling red liquid before answering. "The _Voyager_ ship has a crew of over one hundred. I want them all to endorse me."

"I wouldn't be able to guarantee that." Kathryn shook her head. "But I can guarantee the entire senior staff." She reached out to grasp his arm when he seemed to be mulling it over. "All I need is for you to transmit a message to Starfleet; surely that's worth the promotion of your store by _seven_ renowned…celebrities."

She almost choked on the last word as they had all, in fact, tried so hard to not become celebrities of any kind. She'd also caught a whiff of the drink and hoped its contents would not spontaneously combust.

The Ferengi pushed the drink aside and leaned towards her over the small bar. "What _exactly_ would this message have to say?"

"Yes, Kathryn, please tell us."

Kathryn spun towards the side door of the parlor as Milo Cyronius emerged from the adjoining room.

"What _exactly _would this message say?"

* * *


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes:** I feel the need to once again acknowledge my superb beta, QS. She makes notes for me, lets me argue with her about why I don't need to change something, and doesn't gloat when she sees later that I have seen the error of my ways and fixed stuff she pointed out in the first place. So thank you very much. Story notes and disclaimer are still in the prologue.

* * *

Ch. 7

At the sound of that ingratiatingly insincere voice, Kathryn's heart plummeted even as she spun to see him, her eyes confirming what her heart already knew. Milo was in the Ferengi's room and had been there since before she walked in.

"And to think, I actually did bring the Ferengi here for you," he said, indicating the length of green shimmery material he still held in his hands. "But of course not for the services you wished to hire him for."

The Ferengi sputtered behind her, making excuses that it had all been a ruse and that he'd had no intention of helping her. She doubted that Milo believed the little toad anymore than she did. Janeway ignored him, instead watching Milo walk further into the room, seemingly alone. The ever-present Sheila was absent from his side, and Janeway had every confidence in the world that she could take Milo on her own. He was soft, not accustomed to physically defending himself, although she was sure he would have no problems knifing someone in the back if the need arose. She wondered vaguely, though, once she got her hands on him, would anyone on this ship care enough about his well-being to bow to her demands simply to protect his well-being. Giving a mental shrug, Janeway tensed as he moved closer; she'd find out in about two more seconds.

"You insist on making things difficult, Janeway," Milo said, throwing down the gauzy material. His trademark smile was not evident on his features, for once.

Damn. He'd stopped just out of her range. She'd have to close the distance in order to take the advantage. She needed to distract him. "What can I say? I never have responded well to threats."

He made a tsk-ing sound. "And I thought you were a woman of intelligence."

Janeway stepped away from the bar, hoping the movement towards him looked casual. The doors leading to the corridor slid open as she closed the distance. For a moment, she thought her movement had triggered their opening, but then she saw Stefan and two other aliens, both of which stood head and shoulders taller than him.

"The Admiral seems to have lost her way," Milo said curtly to Stefan. "See that she makes it back to her quarters."

Stefan moved into the room and grabbed her by the wrist. She immediately pulled back, twisting her arm against his grasp, but his grip only tightened as he spun her, trapping her arm behind her back. His other arm snaked around her middle, trapping her free arm against her side. His breath pushed against her hair as he hauled her struggling frame up against him. "Please, don't make me hurt you, Admiral."

Now that she was controlled, Milo approached her. "You will regret this…_indiscretion_, Admiral." Looking to Stefan, he said, "Keep her restrained. I'll join you shortly. I'm just going to finish up here first."

Turning her towards the corridor, Stefan's voice was a low growl as his hand slid to the back of her neck. "You can walk, Admiral, or we can drag you."

Feeling much like a recalcitrant child, Kathryn straightened as much as his grip would allow and walked the several meters back to her quarters. When the doors slid open, the first sight she saw was Madelyn sitting on the couch facing the door, and she wasn't alone. Sheila sat next to her, one arm draped over Maddie's shoulders. Stefan's grip tightened on Kathryn when she tensed at the sight. Ignoring him, Kathryn growled at Sheila, "Get away from my daughter."

Sheila gave Kathryn a feral smile as she began to play idly with Madelyn's hair.

"Mommy?"

Kathryn's heart clenched at the whispered, scared tone in Maddie's voice. She could see her daughter was already trembling, and could only imagine how it must've been for Maddie to be unexpectedly woken up by the alien woman sitting next to her now. "It's going to be okay, Maddie."

Sheila cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow at Kathryn. "Are you sure about that?"

Janeway bristled, but before she could retort, the door behind her slid open, allowing Milo entrance.

"Congratulations, Admiral, you've just gotten me the best deal ever out of that Ferengi. He was so worried about keeping me as a customer, he sold me his entire stock for cost." Milo leaned against the back of the couch. "It's not going to be enough, mind you, but the clothing will still be put to good use."

"Glad I could be of service," Kathryn offered dryly.

"Oh, don't think this lets you off the hook, Janeway." He stood away from the couch, closing the distance between them. "I just hope you're worth all the grief you're causing me."

He glared at her, his beady eyes searching hers for the fear he wanted to see, but all he saw in Janeway's eyes was the promise of continued defiance. He threw his hands in the air in disgust. "I am not a violent man, Admiral, but you…you make me want to cause you pain. Why can't you just cooperate?"

Kathryn bit her tongue at the retort she wanted to give. There were some things her daughter definitely did not need to hear. Instead, she kept her glare focused on Milo as he paced a few steps in front of her.

He stopped abruptly, his face flushed with agitation and sweat dotting his brow. "I can't think with her staring at me." Glancing at the guard next to Stefan, he jerked his head towards Janeway. "Drug her."

The order caught Kathryn by surprise and when she saw the guard move to do his bidding, she reacted instinctively, stepping backwards into Stefan's grip, causing him to stumble. His grip on the back of her neck loosened slightly, and she slammed her head back against his, feeling a satisfying crunch of cartilage. The other guard lunged for her, and all three of them stumbled into the bar. Even as she heard glass shatter behind her, she heard Milo yelling and Madelyn screaming. Kathryn faltered as the sound of her daughter's crying registered in her mind. It was only a moment of hesitation as she fearfully recalled Milo's cold promise if she failed to cooperate, but it was long enough for Stefan to press the hypospray against her neck. The quiet hiss as it delivered its contents into her bloodstream brought Kathryn reeling back to the fight she had started, and she kicked out at the guard in front of her, knocking him backwards. But it was too late. The drug began to course through her, and any hope of resolving the situation any other way slipped away from her. She was out of time. Her muscles went limp, and she saw the floor rushing up to greet her.


	9. Chapter 8

Ch. 8

The sun was shining; it was a perfectly beautiful afternoon in San Francisco, and Chakotay felt sick to his stomach. People were going about their daily routines, conversations about shopping and children's antics washed over him as he sat at the small table, pretending to sip the coffee in front of him. One woman's comment about wishing she could find a single moment of peace and quiet away from her family almost made him overturn the table. He wanted to yell and rage at her that his family was missing and that he would give anything, _anything_ to be able to see them again. To know they were safe. But he managed to hold his tongue. She had no way of knowing just how damned lucky she was.

"This isn't exactly the clandestine sort of meeting we used to have."

Chakotay looked up when the rich smooth voice interrupted his thoughts. Sveta was standing with her hand on the back of the chair opposite him. He hadn't even seen her approach.

She noticed. "You're losing your touch. Has Starfleet turned you soft already?" He stood and embraced her. She hugged him back and then held him at arm's length. "I saw on the news about Kathryn and Madelyn. Have you heard anything?"

He gestured for her to take a seat. "No, nothing yet."

"I'm surprised that I haven't heard _more_ about them," she said, leaving the comment open-ended. She always had been quick on the uptake.

Chakotay nodded solemnly. "Then I guess you were also surprised to hear from me?"

"Yes," she stirred the coffee that had been placed in front of her, "and no. Your call came out of the blue during a time that you should've been extremely preoccupied with the investigation, and not taking time to meet old friends for coffee." She took a sip of the hot drink. "Then I began to think about why you would be meeting _me_ in particular."

"And did you come up with any reasons?" he asked.

"A few. Some more incredulous than others."

He snorted. "You might be surprised at the incredulous ideas I've heard lately."

"I might not be." She leaned back. "Out of all the people in San Francisco, you chose to contact me in connection with the disappearance of your wife, an acclaimed Starfleet admiral." She mused for a moment. "So tell me, Chakotay, have the remnants of the Maquis banded together to kidnap your wife and child?"

He'd always admired her directness. "According to Starfleet, yes, but you were acting under orders from me."

"I see," she said. Her tone was still casual, but she had begun scanning the people moving around them with more scrutiny. "And what's our motive this time? Has Kathryn Janeway declared war on what's left of our home worlds?"

"No, nothing like that." Chakotay heard the bitterness in Sveta's words and couldn't help but feel the same. The war may have been over and the Maquis pardoned, but it didn't mean old wounds had been forgotten. They simply had scar tissue grown over them. On occasions like this, when they were poked and prodded, those wounds still hurt. "They have nothing, and they're grasping at straws to make it look like they're doing something."

Sveta chewed on that for several moments before shaking her head. "It doesn't make any sense, though. Kathryn is an advocate for the former Maquis. We'd have nothing to gain from her abduction. Not to mention we aren't exactly a group anymore anyway. We don't have the resources to do something like this."

"Who does?"

She looked at him sternly. "Just what are you asking me?"

"I need your help," he said simply.

"I don't know what it is you think I can do to help you. I run a shelter. I help veterans from the war." She leaned towards him, lowering her voice. "I don't run underground anymore."

"But you still have contacts, don't you?" She glared at him and refused to answer. "Starfleet isn't going to find Kathryn and Madelyn. They're looking in all the wrong places, and I…I get the feeling…"

"What?"

It was his turn to lower his voice. "I don't think they're trying to find her."

Sveta snorted. "Well, there's your answer."

"I don't follow."

"I've met your wife, Chakotay. She's got spunk. I like her." Sveta gave him a brief smile that disappeared quickly when she continued. "Over the years, I've also met a lot of those admirals she works with. They don't like spunk." She threw her napkin on the table. "If I were you, I'd start by investigating them."

He'd considered the ramifications of what she was implying. "I'll need help to do that."

She scoffed and pushed her chair away from the table. "If you were anyone else, Chakotay." Shaking her head, she stood and scanned the café again. "I don't know if I'll be able to find anything; my contacts aren't what they used to be, but I'll…I'll ask around."

"Thank you, Sveta."

"You always were trouble, brother." She leaned down and kissed him on the head. "Give B'Elanna my regards."

Chakotay watched her walk away. He'd expected that enlisting her help would have given him a little more hope, but all she'd done was raise more doubts in his mind. Could she be right? Was Starfleet really behind this? He surveyed the crowd as well, and noticed more than one pair of eyes shift away from him. Placing his napkin on the table, he stood to leave. It was time to find out who would gain from Kathryn's disappearance.

* * *

  
Milo activated his viewscreen and sighed impatiently. "What do you want now?"

"This is not going to just go away."

"Well, that's your problem isn't it? You were supposed to handle that on your end."

"I've tried. I have control of the investigation, and I've focused attention away from us and onto her husband."

Milo shrugged indifferently. "Then what's the problem?"

"She was gone for seven years, and her family didn't give up on her. Now her family includes all those people that served under her. I don't think they're going to give up easily. Not without some sort of definitive proof."

"Proof of what? That she's dead?"

"I thought you said she wouldn't be…"

"Oh, what do you care? You got what you wanted out of this." Milo leaned away from the viewscreen, considering his options. "So Janeway needs to be dead before Starfleet will leave this alone?"

"Not Starfleet necessarily."

Milo waved the man on the screen silent. "I don't want _anyone_ to continue looking for her. Starfleet or otherwise." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Fine. I'll make some arrangements. The last thing I need is for someone to go poking around in my businesses." He jabbed a finger towards his call screen. "You just make sure the bodies are found in a timely manner."

"I…will."

Milo scoffed at the hesitation he heard. "You really are an amateur at this, but let me make one thing perfectly clear. You screw this up now, and our deal is off. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Don't call me again."

* * *


	10. Chapter 9

Warning: Last time we saw Kathryn, she was in a bit of trouble. Now it's time to pay the price. If violence against our favorite captain isn't your thing, you might want to skim this chapter and tune back in for the next one.

* * *

Ch. 9

Kathryn's legs were barely supporting her. They probably wouldn't be holding her up at all if it weren't for the hand fisted into the front of her shirt. The same hand that had dragged her back to her feet in the first place. She tried to focus on the face that was in front of her, the face that was close enough to hers that she could feel the moist warm breath of the person exhaling, but all she could see was a blur. Licking her swollen lips, she managed again to ask the one question she so desperately wanted to know the answer to. "Where's…my…daughter?"

All she got in response was a laugh. It amused them to ignore her questions, knowing her own imagination was tormenting her by coming up with answers of its own. A tightening of his grip was the only warning she had before his forehead cracked solidly against the bridge of her nose, causing pain to explode behind her eyes. He released the hold he had on her shirt, and she dropped to her knees, barely registering the blood flowing freely down her face before the other guard drove a knee into her chest, slamming her bodily into the railing behind her. All the air rushed from her lungs, and she slumped forward, falling face down onto the upraised grill of the walkway, gasping for air.

She had to admit they'd taken her by surprise. She hadn't been expecting Milo to physically hurt her since he'd been trying so hard to make her look presentable for his detestable auction. When she'd first regained consciousness, she'd found herself on a grated, elevated walkway that appeared to be one of many in a structure that went above and below her for many levels. The center of the structure seemed to be open with some sort of massive equipment grinding noisily away as it repeated a pounding motion and issued billowing smoke into the air. The wall to her other side was lined with grilled, blackened metal fixtures, some of which glowed red with heat while others had steam idly spilling out of them, further polluting the seemingly stagnant air. The walkway itself seemed to wrap around the entire length of the building, utilizing staircases on either end to reach the other levels. She could only guess it was some sort of ore processing factory, but whether it was one of Milo's holoprograms or not, she couldn't have been sure.

With sweat beading on her skin, Kathryn had finally managed to pull herself to her feet using the double side railings of the walkway for support. Her muscles had still been shaky and weak, and she couldn't help but admonish herself as the chain of events that had led to her waking up here came at her in a rush. She'd seen a chance for a possible escape and she'd seized it, as decades of training had taught her to do. But it hadn't paid off. Milo had been there, and she had been well and truly caught in a mess of her own making. And then to be marched back to her quarters to find Sheila sitting so close to Madelyn. Touching her, even. Milo's ominous words of a few days ago rang continuously in her ears,_ "Any time that you choose not to act appropriately, it will not be __**you**__ that suffers the consequences."_

Unfortunately, the last thing Kathryn remembered clearly from her quarters was Maddie, kneeling on the floor next to her, pleading for her to get up. But the drugs had kicked in, and she'd been unable to move or even reply. Then, just as her vision had been clouding over, she'd seen Maddie being dragged away from her. That thought alone had gotten Kathryn up and moving towards the stairs in front of her on the walkway. She hadn't any idea of where they led, but she'd had to move, had to believe she was making some progress towards finding Maddie. Her fears and imagination continually supplied her with dreadful thoughts about what was being done to her child or had already been done to her while she herself had been unconscious. She _had_ to find Maddie.

She'd only made it a few steps when she heard a metal clanging sound above her, followed by heavy footsteps. Bracing herself against the railing, she'd watched and waited until the two guards that had accompanied Stefan earlier came in to view at the top of the staircase.

That had been the first time she'd asked about her daughter. Not surprising, really, that they'd completely ignored her as they'd slowly descended the staircase. In short order, they'd stood beside her, one on each side. The musky smell that accompanied them and the sweat beginning to stain their clothes made Kathryn believe that they, at least, were not holograms. Despite their menacing behavior, she hadn't believed they'd strike her, and she'd drawn herself up to her full height with every intention of pushing past them.

That belief had been a mistake, and the first blow, a punishing fist to her abdomen, had taken her completely by surprise. The beating had continued from there, with Kathryn barely able to defend herself against them in her weakened state. The guard that she had kicked earlier had taken great pleasure in throwing her down the staircase when she'd tried to do it again. Her head striking the metal step as she careened downwards, followed quickly by the excruciating snap of one of the bones in her arm, had been enough to send her once again into oblivion. They'd simply waited for her.

Just as they waited now.

"Come on, Janeway, get up," a voice growled above her. It didn't need to, really. She would've pushed herself up regardless of his taunts. She had to get to Maddie, and in order to do that, she had to get past them. Reaching out with shaky determination, she planted one of her hands on the metal grating for support and tried to push herself up. She only made it as far as her knees and elbows before she had to pause for a moment to catch her breath. The heel of a boot stepped on her hand and began slowly grinding into it. The pain was intense as the sharp grating of the floor dug into the palm of her hand, but she managed to keep the cry of pain buried in her throat.

The voice above her was laughing in amusement. "Come on, Janeway. Show us how an admiral gets on her knees."

She didn't bother wasting her breath on uttering the scathing response that came to mind, but worked to pry her hand free while they continued to mock her.

"You should get used to it. I hear you're going to be on your knees a lot once you get bought," the other voice chimed in. "What do you think, Skor? Think the Cardassian will buy her?"

"Could be," Skor agreed, lifting his boot heel, causing her to lose her balance. "It's been about two weeks; he's due for a new purchase."

"Yeah, his never last long, do they?" Growing bored with waiting, he reached down and hauled Janeway to her feet. "You want that, _Admiral_? You want to be the _whore_ for a Cardassian?"

Their taunts were getting to her, and she forced a burst of struggle through the vertigo and pain, earning herself nothing but a shake by the man holding her.

Skor chuckled, leaning back against the rail. "And just think, Krat, for a little extra, he'll get the girl, too. Can you imagine what that sick fuck will do to her?"

Even knowing they wanted to see a reaction, Kathryn couldn't help the horror that raged through her at his suggestion, and she spat murderously, "Where is she?"

"Oh, I don't know," the one called Krat drawled, watching Janeway rage at Skor's suggestion even as he easily continued to hold her upright. "Maybe I'll talk to Milo myself, see if we can't arrange to have the kid stay with us. It's been awhile since we had a little gi–"

Janeway's knee rammed into Krat's groin cutting off his foul comments. His hold on her released as he bent over in pain. Staggering back, Kathryn caught herself on the railing, struggling to remain upright even as Skor laughed uproariously. Krat leaned against the railing himself, swearing at her. "You…_bitch_…"

"I told you to watch out for her," Skor said, still laughing. "Didn't you see her kick me earlier?"

Krat straightened and hit Janeway with a backhand hard enough to send her to the floor again. Face down on the deck, Kathryn scrambled to try and push herself back up, but a heavy boot pushed into her back, pinning her down. Metal grated against metal, and then the red-hot, glowing end of a metal bar touched the ground in front of her face, close enough that sweat beaded on her nose and above her lips.

"You're going to pay for that," Krat said softly, leaning over her, his face still looking pained.

"Come on, man. We're just getting started," Skor whined half-heartedly, his body weight pinning Kathryn down. "Save the face for later."

Krat looked momentarily disappointed. "Fine. Let's strap her to the railing."

"Works for me."

Skor's boot lifted, and Kathryn renewed her struggles to no avail. The two guards made quick work of leaning her over the top rail that ran alongside the walkway and lashing her wrists with some sort of cord to the bottom railing, despite her fighting them with all she had. The pain in her arm was excruciating as she pulled against the restraints, but she knew it was nothing to what was coming. Her knees and shins scraped against the flooring as she fought to find purchase, but the awkward angle made it impossible.

"Lift her shirt for me."

Her heart skipped more beats at Krat's cold comment from behind her, and she renewed her struggles despite their futility.

Skor used one leg to pin both of hers down as his hand found the hem of her shirt, raising it up, exposing the flesh of her back. His other hand twisted painfully in her hair, pulling her head back. "You_ really_ shouldn't have done that."

It was the only warning Kathryn had before searing pain ignited across her lower back. She screamed and bucked against the railing as she heard the sizzle of her skin against the super-heated metal now pressed against it. Krat removed the bar after only seconds, but the agonizing burn pulsed deep into her tissue, feeling as though he had burned a hole straight through her body. Skor and Krat's laughter washed over her as she gulped and choked air into her lungs, trying desperately to regain some measure of control as her entire back shuddered and spasmed in pained reaction.

Kathryn felt the black edges of unconsciousness closing in on her. Maddie's frightened cries, echoed through her memory again, screaming for her to get up…but she couldn't. The siren's call of oblivion pulled her in, and she could only pray that her daughter had been left unharmed.

* * *


	11. Chapter 10

Ch. 10

"Hey! Guess what I just found out today," Tom said excitedly, striding into the living room. A sea of shocked, pale faces met his exuberance. The entire former senior staff of Voyager, minus the command team, were all looking at him. More than a few eyes were rimmed red, and Tom felt his gut sink to somewhere near his toes. "What happened?"

B'Elanna moved towards him, cradling Miral against her shoulder. "They found Kathryn and Madelyn."

Tom stared disbelievingly. If they'd been found, then everyone wouldn't be this upset. He turned with a questioning look to the rest of the group, and the Doctor took pity on him. "More precisely, their remains were identified."

"What? But…that's not possible." Tom looked from the Doctor to Harry to Seven. Desperately searching for one face that wouldn't confirm his worst fear.

"They were found at a shuttle crash site on a moon in the Draconis system," Harry said as B'Elanna guided Tom towards a chair. "From what we've been told, the shuttle took heavy weapons damage. So we think they were trying to escape from whoever took them."

Tom felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest. Kathryn Janeway was such a central figure in his life it wasn't possible to even think of it without her. For years, she had tried unsuccessfully to keep her distance emotionally, but the ache that was settling in his chest now was the same as if someone had told him his own sister had been killed. It just wasn't possible. Nothing could kill Kathryn Janeway.

B'Elanna's hand was on his knee. "Tom?"

Even looking into his wife's darkened eyes, ones that he alone could probably tell had been shedding tears, he still felt lost. "When?"

"Admiral Patterson called Chakotay to his office about three hours ago."

"Chakotay." Tom knew the gaping hole torn into his soul could only pale in comparison to what Chakotay must be feeling. "Where is he?"

"Upon receiving the news, he departed Admiral Patterson's office rather abruptly," Tuvok explained. "The admiralty then informed Mrs. Janeway."

"Phoebe called here," B'Elanna offered. "She told us everything."

"Oh, God, Gretchen." Tom scrubbed his face with his hands. "Is there anyone with–"

"Phoebe's with her now, and your mom was checking on her."

"My mom?" Tom asked. "Does Dad know yet?"

"A subspace message has been sent to him," Seven confirmed. "Depending on his current location in the Beta Quadrant, it could be several days before he is informed."

"So…it was a positive identification?" Tom asked, sitting back in his chair. He knew he was grasping for straws; Starfleet didn't alert next of kin without due process, but he couldn't help himself. "There's no doubt?"

"Their DNA was confirmed," the Doctor sadly acknowledged. "The actual remains were too badly disfigured to have a visual–"

"I get it." Tom held up a hand, stopping him from going further.

He absently reached for Miral, wanting to hold her, have her next to his chest where he could feel her heartbeat. She was sound asleep, snuggling into his arms unknowingly. He watched her sleeping face, his unshed tears blurring it in and out of focus. Ever since she'd been born, Maddie had been around, declaring herself Miral's big sister. Telling stories about all the places she and Naomi would take Miral when she got big enough. The adventures the three of them would go on, and how, when Miral got old enough, she could come stay on the starship that Maddie would, of course, be captaining by then. Her timeline was a little skewed, but Tom had always liked the idea of Madelyn and Miral serving on the same starship sometime in the future. Now that would never happen.

"Chakotay hasn't shown up anywhere yet that we know of. Ayala went out to look for him," B'Elanna said. "I figure he'll show up here when he's ready to be found."

Tom nodded. He could understand that. He wouldn't want to be around people, either. He wouldn't want to see pitying stares and hear platitudes of remorse. He'd be on a mission to find who was responsible.

"What were you going to tell us when you came in?" B'Elanna asked, and Tom recognized it for the distraction she was trying to make it. "You seemed like you had something to say."

"Oh. It's nothing now. Doesn't matter." Miral fidgeted in his arms, and he was able to get her tiny fist to wrap around his finger. He smiled as she tried to squeeze it. Her mother was the first half-Klingon in Starfleet. He wondered if she'd be the first quarter-Klingon. It wasn't much of a distinction, but still. Absently, he commented, "Did you know that Starfleet now has a Ferengi in its ranks?"

"Indeed?" Tuvok asked, recognizing the human need for small talk.

"Yeah." Tom looked up at Harry. "You remember that bar at Deep Space Nine where we first met?"

"Quark's." Harry tried to smile. "How could I forget?"

"Well, it's his nephew. Lieutenant Nog," he told the group, "if you can believe that. I met him today. Not at all like his uncle."

"That's good to know. I'd hate to serve with him and have him try to sell me something," Harry joked. It was a small joke, but everyone understood.

"He seemed okay, actually. Don't get me wrong, he could still wheel and deal a case of ale out of a Romulan, but it didn't seem like profit was his primary goal in life."

"A learned behavior, no doubt," Seven commented. "Perhaps he was fortunate and had a good role model."

Tom caught the double meaning of Seven's words. They may be all sitting around discussing something trivial and unrelated, but the thought of Kathryn Janeway continued to permeate the room. Seven had lost her role model. Only one of the many roles Kathryn had played over the years for the gathered group. B'Elanna cleared her throat. "So, uh, why were you talking to him?"

"He'd heard about…Kathryn." Tom had to take a breath to get past the catch in his throat at her name. "When she went missing, that is, he'd heard about that. Wanted to offer his sympathies."

"Really? That was all?" the EMH asked.

"He offered to get in contact with his uncle. See if he'd heard anything. Told me that several times over the years out there they'd hear about slavery rings or the like," Tom told them. "He said it never happened on DS9 because his uncle Quark wouldn't allow it."

"More likely, he would lose his establishment at a Federation controlled station. That would not be good for profit," Tuvok commented.

"Probably." Tom shrugged. "It doesn't really matter now, anyway." He chuckled darkly. "Nog probably just wanted to see about getting a posting on Voyager."

"We'll get him one."

Everyone looked up as Chakotay entered. His hair was wet and stuck down on his forehead, his uniform was soaked through and muddied. He looked as though he'd just climbed out of Lake George. B'Elanna crossed to him immediately, reaching out to him, hesitating at the last minute. She settled for wrapping her hands around his arm. "Chakotay?"

He barely glanced at her, surveying all of their faces. "You all know."

It wasn't a question but a statement. They all nodded solemnly.

"Have you talked to Gretchen?" Tom asked quietly.

Chakotay searched the younger man's eyes, his mind flashing through the past three hours.

"_You wanted to see me, sir?"_

"_Yes, Chakotay, please come in." Admiral Patterson indicated that he should take a seat. "I'm afraid I have some bad news." He paused uncomfortably. "There's really no other way for me to say this…"_

"_Just say it, sir," Chakotay forced the words out of his mouth, but he couldn't look up at the older man. Instead, he stared at the desk, his eyes tracing the grain of the wood until he lost focus enough that all he could see was a brown blur._

"_The Dakota, one of our science ships, found a crashed shuttle two days ago. We didn't notify you immediately because we wanted a chance to examine the results ourselves before we made any declarations… DNA tests prove that the remains found in the wreckage…well, it was Kathryn and Madelyn. I'm sorry, son."_

_The news that his wife and daughter had to be identified by DNA only didn't really hit him the way he thought it would. It was too abstract. It meant nothing. But a roar was building in his mind. The part of him that had heard and understood the admiral's words was railing against what it meant. The words having penetrated the hazy shield he'd erected were now lancing into his heart, tearing strips off of it as more of what the admiral said became real._

_The admiral was still talking, something about what planet it was on, the shuttle bore signs of phaser fire, probably escaping. Chakotay didn't hear all the details. He didn't need to. Kathryn had stolen a shuttle and had tried to escape with Madelyn from whoever it was that had taken them. They'd been shot down. They'd crashed onto the surface of a planet. And burned. _

_Died. _

_Why? Because he hadn't been there for them. He hadn't been able to find them and rescue them. He'd done nothing, and now they were gone. And he was alone because, once again, he hadn't been there when his family needed him. _

_Admiral Patterson was still talking. "…investigation into Maquis closed…"_

_But Chakotay's thoughts were in that shuttle with his family. Had his wife and child died together? Or had Kathryn been sitting by herself at the helm, fighting the controls, fighting the inevitable pull of a planet's gravity? Had Madelyn listened to Kathryn's instructions and strapped herself in somewhere towards the back of the shuttle where she would have been safer, or had she ignored her mother and sat next to her at the controls, wanting to be near her? A strangled laugh bubbled out of Chakotay at the thought; that was at least one question he could answer. _

"_Captain Chakotay?"_

_The admiral's concerned voice broke into his downward spiral. He could only imagine what the admiral must think. He'd just been told his wife was dead, and he was sitting there giggling to himself. But of course Patterson hadn't known Maddie, hadn't known how precocious she could be…hadn't known so many things…and now he never would. Chakotay looked up to find Kathryn's early mentor staring at him with saddened eyes. _

"_You would've liked Maddie, Admiral." He barely managed to not choke on the words. "She was a lot like Kathryn."_

_Patterson simply nodded, seeming to understand. "I have no doubt, Captain. I'm sorry I never got to meet her."_

_Chakotay felt numb. His mind had gone blank. So much to take in. Too much. Best not to think at all. He forced himself to his feet. The movement was unsteady, and he wasn't sure what he was going to do next. He simply stood, trying to process. The admiral asked if he would inform Voyager's crew, and he managed to nod. Not knowing really what he was agreeing to, just knowing that he needed to agree in order to leave. "Is…is that all?"_

_The admiral seemed to hesitate before reaching for a small box on his desk. He opened it slowly, turning it towards Chakotay. "This was also found in the wreckage. I thought you'd like to have it."_

_Settled against the dark velvet of the box was a small hunk of metal. Chakotay had to force his eyes to focus. It was a rank bar. An admiral's rank bar. Darkened from soot and slightly melted on one end but still recognizable. He reached out a trembling hand to pluck it from the box. It was cool to the touch, which shouldn't have been surprising, but he'd expected it to still radiate the heat that had abused it. He rubbed his thumb over the encased pips before slowly turning the bar over in his hand. There on the back, almost too small to see, was the engraving he'd put on it for her. His heart clenched as he stared at the symbol of his father, the symbol he wore on his face, the symbol she'd insisted he put there. She'd said she wanted it there on the back of her rank as close to her skin as it could be because he would always come before Starfleet. He stared at it until his tears blurred it out of existence. The beast inside him roared in agony._

_The next thing he remembered was rain. Pelting, driving rain against his face. He was running. As hard and as fast as he could, his chest heaving with the exertion that as a younger man he wouldn't have felt. Collapsing to his knees, he screamed at the sky. Furious, agonizing pain exploding out of him towards the heavens. The cold metal bar still clutched tightly in his fist, digging into his skin, one sharp corner pricking his palm. He didn't know where he was. He didn't care. Only when his throat burned and his voice gave out did he lower his head to the ground. Even in the deep wet grass, he felt the hot tears burn as they left trails across his face. _

_A hand touched his shoulder, pulling him up, and he blinked through the rain to see the care-worn face of Gretchen Janeway. Leaving Admiral Patterson's office he'd transported to the Janeway family residence, but upon seeing the house, he'd turned away. Unable to bring the news of death to a family that had borne so much pain over the years. How was he supposed to tell Kathryn's mother that she had once again lost her elder daughter? Her grand-daughter? Tell her that once again she had to say good-bye to those she held most dear? Could he give her the knowledge that she'd gotten to hold her daughter so briefly only to once again have her ripped away? No._

_He'd run. Through the fields that had seen Kathryn as a child, fields that she'd longed to get away from but always looked back to. Fields that had made his daughter sneeze during her first visit to her grandmother's home. He'd run to the hill where Kathryn's tree stood, overlooking the land. The tree that Maddie had insisted on climbing because her mother had, even though she'd never climbed a real tree before in her life. The tree that Kathryn had run to in her youth when she needed solace. _

_And that's where Gretchen had found him. She didn't have to ask, and he didn't have to say it. The older woman simply pulled him to his feet and led him back to the house. Phoebe had embraced him in the kitchen. Tears pouring down her face as she cried into his chest, leaving him long enough to fetch towels from the bathroom, so they could all dry off. He'd said nothing. Not a single word. _

_After several minutes, Phoebe had gathered up the wet towels and excused herself. It was only then Chakotay realized that Gretchen's eyes, unlike his and Phoebe's, were dry. She noticed the disbelief as it crossed his face, and she reached for his hand. The hand that still clutched the rank bar. _

"_I'm through shedding tears, Chakotay." She slowly pried his fingers open, taking the bar from his hand. She wiped the grime from it with the tail of her shirt then examined it carefully. "For four years, they told me she was dead, and I didn't believe them. And I was proved right." She placed the bar back in the palm of his hand. "Do you think a few weeks and a little piece of metal are going to be enough to convince me this time?"_

_Chakotay stared at her, trying to make his mind catch up to what she was saying. "Gretchen…I…they found…"_

"_Oh, I know what they found. They called here. Told us everything." She shrugged. "I suppose this is more proof than they had last time, but it's not enough. Not __**nearly**__ enough." Placing her hand over his, she curled his fingers back into a fist around the rank bar. "You find her Chakotay, and you give this back to her."_

_He wanted so badly to believe her. She was giving a voice to his thoughts, the thoughts he dared not speak aloud, and it was a balm to the open wound in his heart. She turned away from him, looking out the window at the rain falling down over the field._

"_I will only bury her once, Chakotay. So you go and find her. Bring her and that sweet youngin' back to me." She faced him again, and her eyes were a hard blue. A hard blue that he knew only too well. "And if you can't find her…you find the ones responsible." _

Tom's eyes weren't the hard blue that Gretchen Janeway's had been, but they drew Chakotay back to the present. Back to the room where everyone was watching him expectantly.

"Gretchen doesn't believe that they're dead. And neither do I." He strode further into the room, only briefly squeezing B'Elanna's hand. "Starfleet hasn't offered anything definitive. So call this 'Nog' back, Tom. Find out about every sleazy operation he's ever heard of. He wants a posting on _Voyager_? He can have it if he comes through. He wants the Delta Flyer? Give it to him. Whatever it takes." Chakotay turned towards the EMH. "Doctor, they won't let me see the bodies."

"Well, Captain, that isn't unusual in a case like–"

"I want you to see them. I want you to perform the autopsy."

"Based on the evidence they gave you, the autopsy has already been completed."

"Then get the report. Go over it. Find something, Doctor." He turned towards Tuvok next. "Talk to your contacts in security. They handled the investigation of this case like first year cadets. I want you and Seven to go back over everything. Find what they missed." Not waiting for their acceptance, he turned his attention back to the other side of the room. "B'Elanna, I want you and Harry to examine the wreckage of the shuttle. I don't care if you have to steal a shuttle and go out to the planet yourselves."

"And if we find nothing?" Tuvok asked, voicing the question for the entire room.

Chakotay held out his fist to everyone and slowly uncurled his fingers, revealing the rank bar. Extra creases lined the palm of his hand where he'd clenched the small piece of metal. His voice shook with emotion. "I refuse to believe that this is all I have left of my family. I refuse to believe that, once again, my family has been reduced to bone and ash and the only thing I can do is bury them. We'll find something. We'll look under every rock in this quadrant until we find my wife and child." He closed his fist again. "Or we'll find who murdered them."

* * *


	12. Chapter 11

Notes: It's been brought to my attention that I should include a harsh language warning with this chapter. My apologies if it comes a bit belatedly for some.

* * *

Ch. 11

Kathryn felt her body slipping, her legs folding beneath her, her arms sliding over the round metal railing. Pain tore through her, the flimsy material of her shirt sticking to the raw wound on her back and doing nothing to soften the blow as her body collapsed onto the floor. She groaned, sensation flooding back into her, her body taking back every ache and pain that her conscious mind had fled earlier. Her back arched in an attempt to alleviate the fire that was continuing to burn across the small of her back. Muffled sounds of laughter reached her ears, and she knew the ones who had caused this misery stood over her still.

"I'm impressed…coming back around."

Despite her intense desire not to, Janeway forced herself to remain conscious. The longer they stayed with her…

"…think about…holo-stuff?"

She rolled slowly to her side, her heart beat so loud inside her head she was only catching bits and pieces of the conversation taking place above her.

"…miss the blood…"

"Easier to clean…"

"Well, it certainly is warm in here, isn't it?" The ingratiating voice that Kathryn had come to hate called from the edge of the stairs in front of where she'd fallen. Forcing her eyes open, she watched as Milo descended towards their little trio, fanning himself as he walked. "How's she doing?"

A booted foot nudged Janeway's back, eliciting a hiss of pain. "She's feisty, Milo. I think we could easily go a few more rounds with her."

"Hmmm." He looked down at her, catching her eye before using his foot to push her onto her back, holding her there. Kathryn ground her teeth, a growl of pain tearing through her throat. Milo sniffed. "I'm sure she could, but I think this will be enough for now, gentlemen. Computer, save file Janeway Epsilon Three for reload and end program."

For a moment, Kathryn thought the vertigo that swept over her was just a result of her holodeck surroundings disappearing, but if that was all it was, she should've found herself lying on the floor of a blank hologrid. Instead, she was sitting in a chair in a reclined position in a blank hologrid, and even as she blinked away the dizziness, she saw Milo removing some sort of metallic disks from her chest. Having him in such close proximity, Kathryn automatically tried to lunge for him. Restraints across her chest, arms, and legs held her back, and it was only then, pulling against the straps holding her down, that she realized she felt no pain. It was enough of a curiosity to make her pause in her struggle.

Milo reached towards her head. "Caught up, have you?"

Kathryn stared, dumbfounded as he removed a metallic band that had encircled the back of her head, wrapping around to her temples. "What the hell did you do to me?"

Setting the headpiece inside a box behind him, he chuckled, "Nothing, really." He returned to her side and, pressing something on the side of the chair, she was raised to a seated position. "Just played with your central nervous system some, raised your blood pressure and adrenalin levels, depleted your current supply of endorphins, most likely." He paused, enjoying her unease. "Simply put…I fucked with your mind, Kathryn."

"None of that…was real?" she asked, incredulous.

"Oh, your body thought it was real enough, but you weren't physically experiencing it. Instead of putting your body into a holodeck simulation," Milo tapped her forehead, "I put just your mind into it. _You_ were the hologram."

Kathryn couldn't help but look over her own body, finding none of the bruises and scrapes she expected to see. "Then Skor? And Krat? They weren't…"

"No, no. They're still there, in the other holodeck, I mean, and I can assure you that Krat's balls would agree that the experience was as real for them as if they'd been actually torturing you." He took a seat across from her. "It's genius really, and you would not believe how much money this little device has saved me. The amount of wear and tear on a body…well, I mean, look at you. I'm sure you learned your lesson, _and_ I could put you on the auction block tomorrow without a single blemish to show for it."

Janeway's indignation flared at his impudence. "Do you really think a single beating is enough to break me?"

Milo threw his hands in the air. "I don't _want_ to break you. If I wanted to break you, I'd use drugs." Leaning forward as though he were imparting a great secret, he continued, "I have a serum that would completely erase your memory. You would have no idea who you are. I have another one that stimulates your sex drive. It's so powerful that even a woman such as yourself, a woman of immaculate decorum, would fuck a Reman on the floor of the Romulan Senate just to find relief." He stood and circled behind her, casually draping his hands on her shoulders, he leaned down to her ear. "I have a drug so powerful that within forty-eight hours you would be so addicted to it you'd be willing to sell that daughter of yours just to get another hit."

"Where _is_ she?" Kathryn growled as Milo came back into her view.

"But I don't want to drug you, Kathryn," he continued as if she'd never spoken. "In a few days from now, when someone buys you from me, they _want_ to purchase Kathryn Janeway. Starfleet Admiral. Hero. Not some drugged out shadow." He sat back down. "Don't you see? _That's_ why I used the holo-torture. I want to sell the _real_ you."

"That's great. Really. I _applaud_ your methods." Kathryn leaned forward as much as the restraints allowed. "Now. Tell me where my daughter is."

He sighed and sat back. "We've had this discussion before, Kathryn. I _told_ you your daughter would be the one to suffer for your mistakes if you caused any trouble."

A cold pit settled in Kathryn's stomach, and her knuckles turned white against the chair's armrests. "What have you done?"

"Nothing." Milo said, avoiding her eyes. "I find myself…reluctant...to hurt a child. Even yours." Kathryn closed her eyes and sucked in a shuddering breath at his admission. He continued, "It must be a weak hold-over of my humanity. An affliction that I can guarantee you most of the people who work with me do not share."

Kathryn opened her eyes. "What are you saying?"

"You are not a young woman, Kathryn. Even with holo-torture, I run the risk of damaging you. What if you go into cardiac arrest under the strain?" He leaned forward again. "So let me be clear. I will not risk damaging you again. I don't want to hurt your daughter…but I will. That beating you took earlier." He pointed at the device. "Do you really think a six year old could survive that? Holographic or not? And do you really think that's the only scenario that can be programmed?"

"Touch her…and I'll kill you."

"And what do you think will happen then?" he raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you really think you can take on everyone on this ship and survive? Krat has already expressed a prurient interest in your child. If it were up to Sheila, he would already have your dear Maddie, which brings us to another interesting point. What to do with her after you're purchased?"

He stopped and looked expectantly at Kathryn to supply the answer. Her nails dug into the palm of her hand. What the hell kind of decision could she make? Have her daughter be sold into slavery with her, or leave her here? Her stomach roiled at the repercussions of either decision, but at least if Maddie stayed with her, she could try to protect her.

"You ensure that Madelyn stays with me, now and after the auction." Kathryn cleared her throat. "And I give you my word that I'll do whatever you want."

Milo considered. "No escape attempts. No fighting. I want your full cooperation and obedience. Before and during the auction."

"No one touches Madelyn. Holographic or otherwise," Kathryn reiterated.

"Of course," he agreed. "But once you're off my ship, I guarantee nothing."

"Agreed. All bets are off."

"Then we have an accord?" Milo smiled. "Sheila will be so…displeased."

* * *


	13. Chapter 12

Ch. 12

"Doctor, your 1500 appointment is here to see you."

"Thank you, Leslie…there isn't a name listed in my schedule. Who am I meeting with?"

"One moment…a Dr. Zimmerman."

Beverly Crusher, head of Starfleet medical, paused. She knew that name, and she groaned inwardly. She'd heard horror stories about him from Deanna. Apparently, he was a genius when it came to holographic design, but his people skills left a lot to be desired. As she'd only recently taken the post, she had yet to encounter the man personally. She rolled her eyes and steeled herself; he probably had another design to add to the EMH program. A Mark V, perhaps. "Send him in, please."

The balding man stepped into her office and extended his hand. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Doctor."

Beverly shook his hand and immediately felt a difference. It was a slight difference, one that not everyone would notice, but as a practicing physician for over twenty years, she was certainly more in tune to the physical body than most. She cocked her head to the side, taking in his appearance. Yep, he was practically identical to the one she had briefly used as a decoy on the Enterprise. Of course, if her suspicions were correct, he was _exactly_ identical.

Noticing her scrutiny, he offered, "Perhaps I appear younger than you were expecting?"

"That," she nodded and indicated he should take a seat, "and the fact that you're a hologram."

He inclined his head. "I apologize for the subterfuge regarding my name. I find it easier to make appointments if I give the family name, although I haven't yet decided whether to take the moniker as my own."

"The family name? I suppose that works." She sat back in her chair. This had to be the Voyager's EMH. It was the only one she knew of that was capable of being out and about on his own, thanks to his mobile emitter. While she had many reservations about the entire program line, she couldn't deny all the reports and achievements the hologram in front of her had accomplished if ship's records were to be believed, and she'd met Kathryn Janeway before her recent untimely passing. She hadn't seemed to be one to exaggerate claims, and she'd spoken quite highly of her doctor's accomplishments. "What can I do for you today, Doctor?"

"Well, it's really a matter of family that I've come to talk to you about."

"Is there something wrong with your creator?"

"No, no, Reg assures me Dr. Zimmerman is back to his charming self."

"Reg Barclay?" Beverly smiled. "How is he? I understand he had a large part in establishing contact with your ship."

"Yes, he did. He's quite instrumental within the Pathfinder project still. He's doing well." Eager to make a connection, he pushed on hurriedly. "Admiral Janeway even made him an honorary member of the crew at the welcome back ceremony."

Beverly heard the slight catch in his voice when he mentioned Janeway's name. She thought it a very human trait. "I was sorry to hear about the Admiral's death. Jean-Luc and I had dinner one night with her and Captain Chakotay. I found her to be a very engaging soul. I would've liked to have known her better."

"Actually," the EMH cleared his throat, "she's the reason I'm here."

"Oh?"

"I'd like to perform an autopsy of the remains."

"Surely you know the autopsy has already been completed. Starfleet wouldn't have notified the next of kin without following that process first for confirmation."

"Granted," he agreed easily. "But I'd still like to perform one myself."

Crusher studied the hologram seated in front of her. She knew from reports and the improvements to the Mark II that the Mark I EMHs were known for their superior attitudes, egotistical natures, and horrible bedside manners – much like their creator. But was this EMH requesting this because he thought he was superior? She hedged, "That's not usual procedure, Doctor. May I ask why you feel the need to perform one?"

"Isn't a second opinion always recommended in our field?"

"A second opinion?" Beverly raised her chin. "Just what exactly do you want to give a second opinion about, Doctor? The cause of her death?"

The EMH hesitated. "I'd like the opportunity to confirm that it is in fact Kathryn Janeway."

"Ah. I see." And she did. Believing a loved one had died without seeing their remains was always difficult, no less so for doctors than anyone else. And with a tragedy such as this one, where not only a mother had died but her child as well, it was only natural to seek answers. To try and prove that it wasn't possible. To defy death. But still… "Do you have reason to believe it _isn't_ Admiral Janeway?"

"Not exactly," he hedged, fighting his natural tendency to divulge all of his knowledge. "But I do believe that I could offer more conclusive proof that it is her _if_ that's the case."

"But you don't think it is." Beverly couldn't help but think that here was a man that was definitely uncomfortable. Like he was hiding something. It was only then she realized she was thinking of him as a man and not a hologram. His hesitations, his questioning nature, and most of all, his obvious emotional attachment.

"I…I'm not sure." He leaned forward. "But if I were able to conduct the examination, I could put any doubts to rest."

"I wasn't aware there were any doubts."

"Wouldn't you like to be sure?"

Beverly considered his request. She really didn't see any harm in it, aside from possibly affronting whatever doctor did the original investigation. Besides, it wasn't like this was the twentieth century where he'd be literally cutting into the body. And truthfully, wouldn't she want to do the same? If it were one of her friends from the _Enterprise_, wouldn't she want to assure herself that everything that could be done had been done? Yes. There was no doubt. But there was still something he wasn't telling her, and she was going to find out what that was before she allowed him any special favors.

Steepling her hands on the desktop, she said, "Let's assume I say yes." He immediately smiled, but she continued, wiping the momentary expression off of his face. "What is it you're looking for?"

"Nothing…specific." He leaned back away from her. "Just, I was her physician for seven years. I performed several surgeries on her during that time. I'd be able to recognize my own craftsmanship."

Beverly frowned. "Any previous injuries that were still distinguishable would've been noted in the report and compared with her medical record."

"Yes, well, I've read the report." He fidgeted. "I could recognize things that were perhaps _not_ in her medical record."

"Doctor, let me be perfectly clear," she said. "I am not going to allow you to do anything unless you are straight with me. So either lay it all out for me right now, whatever it is that you are so delicately trying to sidestep, or have a good afternoon."

He looked stunned. "Are you sure you aren't related to Admiral Janeway?" When Beverly began to stand, an obvious sign of dismissal, he held up his hands. "Please, hear me out." She sat back down and motioned for him to continue.

"You were a doctor on a starship, so you are well aware of how _difficult_ starship captains can be as patients."

She couldn't help but smile at that. "I've run up against my fair share."

"As I suspected. I can assure you, Captain Janeway was no different. I could barely keep her in sickbay long enough to mend the injuries that she managed to sustain with unfortunate regularity." He paused as they shared a momentary bond. "That being said, I'm also aware that you, more so than any other doctor besides myself, perhaps, has a thorough knowledge of the removal of Borg implants from the human body."

Beverly couldn't help but feel a cold wave sweep over her. Yes, she was quite familiar with that painstaking process and how brutally efficient those implants were at immersing themselves within the human body. She, like everyone else, had of course heard of Seven of Nine, the recovered drone that _Voyager_ had brought back with them, but she didn't see how the blonde woman she'd seen on news vids had anything to do with their current discussion concerning Admiral Janeway.

Not missing her reaction, the EMH continued. "What I should say is that, more specifically, you and I are quite possibly the only people that know how it feels to have to remove such implants from our captains."

The statement hung in the air for a moment before she realized what he meant. "Admiral Janeway was assimilated?" Starfleet had sure managed to keep that quiet.

"Yes, the fact that three of _Voyager's_ senior staff were assimilated is one of the few things Starfleet hasn't exactly been touting to the masses. Given the phobia some feel towards the Borg, it's one fact of our trip that hasn't been made common knowledge."

Beverly nodded, only half listening as she quickly opened and scanned Janeway's medical file. "Here's something, but it requires a level ten security clearance to view."

"I would hazard a guess that the Chief of Starfleet Medical would have that clearance?"

"Yes, she would," she replied with half a smile as she unlocked the file. Taking a moment to read the report, she became convinced that the hologram's program had not been overrated after all. "I see you had your work cut out for you, Doctor. And you had to do this with two others, as well?"

"And Seven of Nine, but her reclamation from the Borg was prior to those," he said. "You see, there are certain things I would look for if allowed to perform my own autopsy of the remains. Not _all_ of Admiral Janeway's implants were completely removed."

"There's no mention here of any remaining implants," Beverly questioned, indicating the file she had open.

"No, and I assure you at the time it wasn't intentional. After I released Captain Janeway from sickbay, she skipped her follow up appointments." He couldn't quite keep the disapproval out of his voice. "Those appointments were scheduled so that I could remove the last remaining implants. Two months later, when I finally managed to confront her about it, she simply asked if they were harming her. They weren't and, in fact, were actually beneficial as they were adding support to her spinal column. She muttered something about what was good enough for the ship was good enough for her, and that was the last time we discussed it." The EMH stared at Beverly, willing her to understand. "You see now why I'd like to conduct my own examination. Even through the most devastating shuttle crash, I believe there would still be evidence of Borg material fused to the skeleton that could uniquely distinguish her remains from anyone else's."

Still scrolling over the report, Beverly shook her head. "The attending physician makes no mention of finding anything of the kind."

"Which makes me wonder," the Doctor pressed his point. "Even a field medic would pick up traces of metal fused to bone. Unless you didn't know that it was _supposed_ to be there."

Beverly's eyes widened. "And very few people would have known about it, making that very few people that would have known to include it in a report of findings."

"Exactly."

"But we had DNA," she tried, feeling incredulous at the amount of cover up this hinted at if it was true.

"It wouldn't take much to find a source of the Admiral's DNA and clone it. Borg material on the other hand…" His voice trailed off. He didn't need to complete the thought. How many people wanted to experiment with anything Borg related?

She had to agree. "All right, Doctor, request granted. On one condition. You let me assist."


	14. Chapter 13

Ch.13

Staring into the closet, Kathryn still couldn't quite believe it. She was to be sold tomorrow, and as if that wasn't bad enough, Milo had revealed to her what it was she was expected to wear. He'd told her to think of it as lingerie; she preferred to think of it as scraps of cloth covered by gauze. The whispery, emerald material shimmered in certain lights and flowed freely from the lower edge of the brassiere portion all the way down to the floor. Spidery strings cinched the lower back, and two highly stylized clusters held the front loosely together. She didn't even want to think about the thong they expected her to wear. If less really was more, she certainly would have that aspect taken care of.

And the damnable misery of it all was that she looked good in it. Milo had insisted on checking the fitting earlier, so like a doll, she'd been trussed up in it. Only at Maddie's innocent observation of how beautiful she looked had Kathryn given in to temptation and inspected her own reflection. She'd almost gasped even as heat rose in her cheeks. Sheila and her minions had done their job well. Her skin was a flawless ivory, accented beautifully by the dark green of the material that flowed over her, revealing everything and nothing at the same time. The natural auburn color of her hair had been augmented, but not overly much, leaving her with a smooth mane that framed her face while resting softly atop her shoulders. Even her eyes appeared to be a brighter shade of blue and not their usual grayish. A factor which she could only attribute to the drops they had continually administered. If only Chakotay could see her like this, instead of being treated like some slave girl from Planet Ten.

The thought of being forced to parade in front of strangers wearing nothing but this had Kathryn's stomach twisting in knots. Command school hadn't exactly prepared her for this scenario. She'd turned away from her reflection quickly but not before catching a glimpse of Sheila's amused smirk in the mirror. That had been several hours ago, and still, Kathryn kept finding herself drawn back into the bedroom to look at the costume. It was like a warp core cascading into a breach; as much as you feared it, your eyes were drawn to the catastrophe like a moth to a flame.

"Mama, come look."

Kathryn jumped at her daughter's voice and quickly closed the closet once again. Schooling her features, she left the bedroom, chiding herself as she went. "What is it…Maddie…what–"

"I disassembled the locking mechanism for the door. It wasn't that much different than taking apart your replicator," she said with a flourish, indicating the parts she had strewn across the floor near the door. "Watch."

Maddie waved her hand in front of the door's sensor, causing it to slide open, and Kathryn immediately caught a glimpse of Skor. His quick reflex from relaxed posture to alert assured her he wasn't simply passing by; he was standing guard in the corridor. Horrified at the repercussions this could mean, Kathryn quickly moved her daughter away from the sensor but not before seeing a knowing smile appear on Skor's features.

"Why did you do this, Maddie?" she asked, picking up the pieces, knowing it was already futile to bother putting them back together.

"You said you couldn't do it–"

"I said I couldn't _risk_ doing it. There's a difference."

"But you see, I took care of that for you."

"Yes, honey," Kathryn knelt down so she was eye level with her daughter. "I need you to listen to me now. Go in the bedroom and stay there. Don't come back out. I don't care what you hear. I will come in and get you when it's safe."

Maddie's eyes grew big. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Go. Now, Maddie," she said, pointing towards the bedroom but continually glancing at the door. Any minute now…

"But Mama, I don't want you to get hurt again."

"Oh, she won't," Milo announced as the door slid open, allowing him entrance and revealing his usual entourage behind him in the corridor. "But I can't say the same for you." He glared at the lock components in Kathryn's hand and shook his head at her even as she stood, pushing Maddie behind her. "I warned you what would happen, Janeway."

"It's not what you think," Kathryn tried explaining even as Stefan entered the parlor from the far door. "She didn't know."

"Do you really expect me to believe that the child did this?" Milo asked incredulously, his face flushed.

"I did! Mama had nothing to do with it," Maddie yelled, coming out from behind Kathryn.

"Maddie, be quiet."

"Let the child speak. It may be her last opportunity."

"You will not touch her!" Kathryn shoved Maddie back behind her at the same time that Stefan drew a disrupter. He stepped closer, letting the muzzle of the weapon brush against her temple threateningly.

"Stefan, don't hurt her," Maddie pleaded, pulling against her mother's grip. "I'm the one that should be punished; she didn't do anything wrong."

Ignoring the disrupter, Kathryn stared hard at Milo. "She…didn't…know."

Milo's beady eyes never left Kathryn's. "Fine. If the girl is telling the truth, then she should be able to put it back together."

"She can," Kathryn stated confidently. Then she actually allowed a small smile to cross her face. "And it'll probably work better than it did." Disregarding Stefan, she squeezed Maddie's hand. "Go ahead, honey. Make Aunt 'Lanna proud."

Maddie sniffed loudly, moving out from behind her mother, and began arranging the components into neat rows on the floor. Within moments, she was so absorbed in her project that she wasn't even sniffling anymore. After a minute passed, Sheila huffed in disgust and walked back out of the room, Stefan's aim relaxed, and the disruptor was now aimed at Kathryn's chest instead of her head. Milo slouched onto a barstool, still looking agitated, leaving Kathryn to hope the demonstration would be enough to convince him. After several tense minutes, Maddie had the entire mechanism reconstructed.

"Put it back into the wall and restore the panel, Maddie, just like you found it," Kathryn instructed.

"If she's this good with all mechanical stuff, maybe I should keep her on as an engineer," Milo drawled.

Kathryn bristled. "That wasn't the deal, Milo."

"I am going to be an engineer one day," Maddie said obstinately. "In Starfleet."

"Is that so?" Milo asked snidely and Kathryn did not miss the danger inherent in his tone.

Maddie replaced the panel, and the lights flashed through a sequence, indicating they were in working order. She turned towards Milo and put her hands on her hips. "Yes, Mister Milo, that's so."

Kathryn's hand snapped out in the direction of her daughter. "Maddie, come stand by me. _Now_."

The mood of the room had shifted. Kathryn knew that Milo may not want to hurt a child, but he also didn't care for getting shown up. It didn't matter that he and Stefan were the only ones left in the parlor as everyone else had left once it was apparent there wasn't going to be any violence. Milo had shown a weakness in front of his crew, and he did not like that.

"What makes you think, little girl," he stood up from the stool and moved closer to Kathryn and Madelyn, "that you are _ever_ going to see Starfleet again?"

"Because they're coming for us!"

Kathryn tightened her hold on her daughter. "That's _enough_, Madelyn."

Milo chuckled darkly and hit Stefan on the arm. "She thinks she's going to be rescued. She thinks…the almighty Starfleet is going to board _my _ship."

Stefan nodded, his eyes never wavering from Kathryn. "No one from Starfleet boards this ship."

Kathryn frowned. The way he quietly offered that statement as though it was a fact made her internal alarms go off.

"Well my Aunt 'Lanna will! And she's going to kick your–"

"Madelyn!"

"Your Aunt 'Lanna thinks you're dead!" Milo said loudly, cutting her off. He smiled cruelly at the little girl's shocked expression. "Just like the rest of Starfleet."

Kathryn's heart plummeted, and she was glad her skin was paler than usual as she felt all of her blood rush downwards away from her head. "What?"

"Oh, that's right," Milo said, exaggerating his speech. "I forgot to tell you! It seems Starfleet found a downed shuttle. It was _badly_ destroyed, but they were able to find some remains among the wreckage. Nothing that could be easily identified but DNA markers indicate that it was you and your daughter."

"How…"

"I told you, Janeway. I have drugs for everything," Milo said, enjoying himself. "Including masking DNA."

"That won't be enough," Kathryn argued. "They'll never use a single source to determine–"

"I believe your rank bar was also found," Milo interrupted. "Your husband was able to identify it by the small symbol scratched onto the back. Some sort of _native_ looking art." He looked down at Madelyn. "Your _Daddy_ didn't take the news too well, I'm afraid."

"Chakotay." It was only a whisper. Ice swept through Kathryn's veins even as bile rose in her throat. If Chakotay thought she was dead, thought Madelyn was dead…Kathryn glared at the man across from her, a rage building like the one she'd once felt towards Rudy Ransom. Milo's triumphant smile would've been enough to send her over the edge if it hadn't been for Maddie's choked hiccup. Immediately, Kathryn switched gears and tucked her daughter's head into her waist, knowing she was trying not to cry. Maddie's hands clenched tightly at the fabric of Kathryn's robe, burying her face in the cloth. Kathryn looked back to Milo, her voice a strained whisper. "Get out."

He jerked his head at Stefan, indicating the door. "You play a dangerous game, Janeway. I'll be glad to be rid of you."

"I assure you, the feeling is mutual."

"You may say that now, Admiral," he said, punching in a code on the lock as Stefan exited the room, "but after tomorrow, you'll look fondly on the time you spent here."

"The hell I will."

Milo stepped into the corridor. "We'll see."

* * *


	15. Chapter 14

Notes: First of all, thank you to everyone that has stuck with me this far, and thank you for all the wonderful feedback you've been giving me. I truly appreciate it.

Secondly, I have no patience, so I hope you don't mind if I post more than one chapter a day.

* * *

Ch. 14

"To the Captain."

"To the Captain," echoed four voices.

Tal Celes' hand shook as she downed the glass of Bajoran ale, but she managed a small smile for her four comrades. What a motley crew the five of them made. Three Bajorans and two Terrans, or two Starfleet misfits and three former Maquis.

Five Voyagers.

A fitting tribute to honor their fallen captain. Celes felt sure Janeway would approve. After all, what was family for?

Billy watched her with concern as a single tear escaped and rolled down her face. She wiped it away before squeezing his hand in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. He'd only just arrived after a two week transport trip to visit her on her home planet of Bajor. It was such a sweet gesture from him; she wished it could've started on a better note.

The news of the Captain and Madelyn's deaths had reached them all yesterday. Dalby and Gerron had been scheduled to leave earlier in the morning, but they'd delayed their schedules so they could still be at Deep Space Nine when Billy arrived. The four of them and Tabor had all decided to meet at Quark's bar to give a salute to their fallen captain. They were the only Voyagers out this far, it seemed fitting that they acknowledge the captain's passing together.

She, Tabor, and Gerron had all returned to Bajor following the debriefings, wanting to visit their home planet while they decided what they wanted to do next with their futures. Having no family on Earth, Dalby had followed his friends soon after. Captain…Admiral Janeway had convinced them all to take some time before making any lasting decisions, encouraging them to give Starfleet due consideration before opting out. Celes and Billy each had a few different non-starship options available to them within Starfleet, but neither had decided whether or not to remain. Tabor, Dalby, and Gerron had been granted provisional ranks so long as they completed certain courses at the academy first. But now, with the Captain gone, something almost tangible about the appeal of remaining in Starfleet seemed to vanish, and Celes had no idea what she wanted to do.

"You know, I really hated her in the beginning," Tabor commented.

"You weren't the only one," Dalby agreed.

"She was just _so_…'fleet back then."

"Well, it wasn't _just_ her you hated in the beginning," Telfer said with a nervous smile.

"No. It wasn't. But she represented it for me. She took on the embodiment of everything I hated and wanted to hate," Tabor said, refilling his glass. "It wasn't until after that incident when the Kazon left us stranded that I really started to change my mind about her."

"Why then?" Gerron asked quietly.

"It was after we were back on the ship. You remember all those repairs we had to make?" They all nodded. "Lieutenant Torres assigned me to replace some blown relays. This was on the second or third day; everyone was tired from the planet and running on fumes. I really didn't want to crawl through all those Jeffries tubes, but there wasn't much to be done about it. About half-way there, I came across the Captain coming from the opposite direction." He smiled, laughing softly. "She was a mess. I'd never seen her before with her hair so out of place. Her jacket was hanging open, and even with the smudges of sweat and dirt on her face I could tell it was slightly bruised. I'd never seen her look quite so human."

"Let me guess," Billy offered. "She'd been fixing broken relays."

"Yeah. She took the PADD from me with the list of relays that needed fixing, checked off about half of them that she'd already done, and then took half of the ones remaining to fix, leaving me with only three to do. When she started crawling off in another direction, I finally managed to say thanks." He nodded as though he was in the Jeffries tube, seeing her again in that moment. "She just turned back to me and said 'it's good to be back isn't it?'".

Tabor shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. "It was only later I found out the bruise on her face was from one of the Kazon slapping her on the bridge. She'd never gone to sickbay for it."

"I never hated her," Celes said quietly. "Scared of her? Yes. Terrified. But I never hated her."

"In the beginning, I just couldn't figure out why Chakotay was so willing to follow her," Dalby said somewhat ruefully. "You know, aside from the obvious." Gerron smiled at the comment, his cheeks turning slightly red. "Then when we had to go those few months without either of them, and all we had was Tuvok."

They all groaned.

"He was capable, yeah, but she just had…something." Dalby took another drink of his ale. "I guess Chakotay was just able to see it a lot sooner than I was."

"What is with all the melancholy over here? I am trying to run a business," Quark said, approaching their table, "not make everyone that enters feel like they're attending a funeral." Five sets of saddened eyes turned to stare at the Ferengi. "Oh. Well in that case, I'll give you this round at a discount. For every two drinks you buy, I'll give you one for half price."

"You're too generous," Dalby remarked dryly.

"Don't go spreading it around." Quark poured a new round of ale for all of them. "Who are we commiserating?"

"Admiral Kathryn Janeway."

"Really?" Quark actually looked surprised. "I hadn't heard that."

"I'm sure by tomorrow it'll be news across the Alpha Quadrant," Celes said glumly.

"I could set up a dom-jot tournament in her honor," Quark said, thinking out loud.

Tabor and Dalby both stood up menacingly with Gerron following. Telfer stood up a little more hesitantly while Celes eyed Quark with disgust. "You would do that?"

"That woman beat me in three straight sets," Quark said, backing away from them. "It would be more of a testament to her skill. A way for people to connect to her."

"Admiral Janeway played dom-jot…with you?" Tabor asked. "I find that hard to believe."

"She_ was_ really good at pool," Billy commented, earning a frown from his friends.

"And when did this game supposedly take place?" Dalby asked, more out of curiosity than disbelief.

"Before she was an admiral, I tell you that," Quark said, regaining some of his poise. "It was before that ship of hers went missing."

"Before the mission? I don't think so." Celes dismissed his story entirely. "She would have been way too busy."

"No, no, it was. Even captains have to take breaks, you know." Dalby and Tabor retook their seats as Quark kept talking. "She came wandering through here in the middle of the night. I just happened to still be here, counting profits. New captains are ridiculously easy to spot. Thinking they have to do everything themselves. They haven't quite learned to delegate those menial tasks yet. They feel everything is their responsibility." Billy glanced at Celes. Quark really did seem to have met her. "So I challenged her to a game. Told her the best officers use a friendly game to clear their heads all the time. She was reluctant, of course, which I chalked up to not being a very good player. She didn't have the look." Quark shook his head slowly. "Five bars of latinum later…I never saw it coming."

They were all grinning now. The wistful look on Quark's face was priceless.

"She promised me a rematch when she returned in a couple of weeks," he sighed. "Guess I'll never get that latinum back now. Ah, well, here's to Janeway, the finest Starfleet hustler I've ever had the pleasure of losing to."

"Janeway," they chorused.

"Janeway…pah," a voice behind them slurred disdainfully. "I wish I'd never laid eyes on her. That…hew-man cost me everything!"

"Ignore him," Quark said nervously, casting a look at the Ferengi sitting at the table behind them. "He's a little bitter about a lost business venture." To the man in question, he muttered, "Shut up, Frek."

"You knew Admiral Janeway?" Celes queried, her expression indicating she didn't believe the eavesdropper who'd entered into their conversation. Her companions all tossed similarly dubious looks at the table behind them.

"Unfortunately. And it cost me everything, too! If only she hadn't looked like she could give a decent oo-mox…" Frek shook his head mournfully. "Women. They're just bad for business. I wasn't even going to help her…crossing Cyronius usually doesn't bode well for profit, but it didn't matter. He cancelled my contract, anyway."

"Dealing with characters like Cyronius _never_ bodes well for profit," Quark muttered. "And I _did_ warn you, didn't I? A man who holds nothing sacred is a man that can't be bested in any transaction. Rule of Acquisition number–"

"Don't quote rules of acquisition at me!" Frek retorted. "It was Janeway's fault. Everything would have been perfect if she hadn't ruined it all."

"Let me guess," Dalby smirked, "you tried to take her on in a game of Dabo because you thought she would be an easy mark, and she cleaned you out, instead."

"I wish it had been that simple!" the Ferengi lamented, letting his disproportionally gigantic head rest pathetically in his small hands. "But no. Janeway ruined what was going to be my most profitable business venture yet."

Quark looked nervous about the way the conversation had turned. It wasn't a good idea to talk about people like Cyronius in the company of Starfleet types. But they did appear to be regarding Frek only with disbelief and pity, not suspicion. Besides, he was anxious to hear just how the venerable Janeway had managed to muck up a less than notorious Ferengi's half-cocked business venture.

"It was a stupid scheme to begin with," Quark said, swiping an empty glass from Frek's table. "You were never going to make any profit with it."

"You don't know that," Frek said excitedly, lifting his head. "Our females are wearing clothes now. Why wouldn't they want lingerie? I could've had the corner on the market. All I had to do was make a few sales. Get my merchandise seen in a few places. But it isn't easy breaking into that market. If only Nemor could have known she was wearing a Frek exclusive-"

"Did you say, Nemor?" Dalby asked, his sarcasm from a moment before vanishing.

"–but instead, he'll have thought she was wearing something…_replicated_," the Ferengi continued, oblivious to the darkening mood of the officers.

Dalby, with Gerron close by his side, moved until he stood over the seated Ferengi. "You mentioned the name Nemor. Is he Cardassian?"

"Who? Nemor?" Frek waved offhandedly. "Of course he's Cardassian; what else would he be?"

Dalby wrapped his fists in the front of Frek's jacket, hauling him to his feet, practically upending the table and chair in the process. Slamming the Ferengi against the wall, Dalby growled into his face. "Nemor was the Glinn responsible for more than a dozen brutal raids against my planet. I rather hoped he'd gotten killed in the war, but since he's obviously still alive, I'd be very interested to know where I could find him."

"I don't know where he is," Frek shouted, throwing his hands up in submission. "I just know he was going to be at Cyronius's auction."

"Auction?" Quark asked, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief. "I thought Milo stopped having those."

"Of course he didn't stop having them. The sex slave industry is still one of the most lucrative profit making schemes out there," Frek explained, a note of disdain entering his voice. "He just stopped telling you about them because you were so cozy with the Federation types."

"What did you just say?" Celes and Quark asked simultaneously, both incredulous at what they'd just heard, but for markedly different reasons.

Celes pushed her way in between Quark and Frek. "What does this man Cyronius have to do with Captain Janeway?"

For the first time, Frek hesitated, finally realizing he'd said way too much. Dalby twisted his fists, tightening the hold he had on the Ferengi's jacket. Feeling duly encouraged, Frek capitulated, "She was there on his ship. She was going to be in the auction. Cyronius's crown jewel."

Tal Celes, considered quiet and meek by most, ripped Frek out of Dalby's grip and bodily threw him back into his chair. Startled, the Ferengi tried to get up, but she pushed him back down, bracing her hands on his shoulders and leaning into his space. "Are you telling me that Kathryn Janeway was being held against her will, and that she came to you for help?" Frek nodded nervously. "And you turned her away because you were more concerned about your _profit_?"

Celes didn't even wait for an answer to her last question before she slapped the little Ferengi. She slapped him again and was about to a third time before Billy and Gerron managed to pull her back. Tabor took her place, leaning into Frek's face. "Let's talk."

* * *


	16. Chapter 15

Ch.15

Kathryn choked back a bit of shock as the tingle of the transport beam wore off. She hadn't expected to transport anywhere, and the separation she felt at leaving the ship, knowing Maddie was still on it, was hard to bear. The fact that she had just been beamed into a room full of people, while essentially only wearing lingerie, was another unpleasant surprise. She'd expected a little more warning. Sheila's fingers tightened menacingly around her bicep, and the concealed point of a phaser dug into her side. Quickly swallowing her surprise, Kathryn set her chin and slipped into her command mask as Sheila guided her through the room.

Despite the dozen or so people standing and sitting in the ornately decorated room, there was hardly a sound to be heard. Walking past high-backed chairs, around plush ottomans, Kathryn counted almost a dozen people. Mostly men but a few women, almost all were species she recognized. Human. Romulan. Cardassian. Bajoran, ironically. And all eyes were on her. Scrutinizing. They expected her to look away, but she didn't. She wouldn't, despite the collective, predatory gaze she felt as Sheila guided her once around the room, allowing all to have a close look before leading Kathryn through a side door. A few murmurs had broken out, and Kathryn felt a chill creep over her, knowing she was the subject of speculation, but then the doors closed behind her, cutting off the whispered observances.

Sheila's soft laugh echoed near her ear, but she ignored it, focusing instead on the room she now found herself in. It was huge, and again there were more people in it than she had been expecting. Eight in all, but it was obvious these were not more buyers. It was like a punch to the gut when Kathryn realized that these were the other people that were being sold. Soft whimpering drew her attention to the left, and she saw a young girl with dark hair rocking slightly in obvious distress. A guard Kathryn didn't know by name but that she had seen on the ship stood menacingly over her, uncaring. On instinct, Kathryn took a step towards her, wanting to offer the girl comfort, but Sheila's grip tightened around her upper arm, forcing her onwards.

Pushing Kathryn down into a large cushioned chair, Sheila gave another one of her small grins before taking one step away from her. It took some effort, but Kathryn ignored her, choosing instead to finish her survey of the room and its occupants. There was another young girl of a descent she didn't recognize, a young man who sat straight backed in his chair, ignoring his guard, and a wild looking woman with intricate braids. Five of them in all to be auctioned. The wild woman didn't appear to be quite Kathryn's age, but she was older than the other three, and she was being guarded rather attentively by Krat. Feeling Kathryn's gaze, her eyes flashed as the two women exchanged a meaningful look. The other three were scared children despite the boy's attempt to maintain a regal demeanor, but Kathryn felt a kindred spirit with this woman. Her tight, body-hugging garment that looked almost scale-like accentuated her lean, muscled frame, and she radiated not fear but power. But also like Kathryn, she sat passively in her chair, offering no resistance. Kathryn couldn't help but wonder what matter of coercion Milo was using on her.

The side door opened again, allowing a brief glimpse of the waiting patrons before Milo breezed into the room, closing the doors behind him. He looked disdainfully at the crying girl. "She's first. Take her around to the front."

Kathryn forced herself to remain in the chair, digging her nails into the upholstery as the guard hauled the young girl out of the room. Kathryn was shaking she was so furious, and her impotence in the situation was galling.

"That's an antique, one of a kind chair that you are ruining, Kathryn," Milo's voice chided, standing in front of her.

She hadn't even seen him approach she'd been so blinded with her concentration. Looking up, she managed to ground out, "I'd rather dig my nails into your flesh if you feel up to taking its place."

He paled slightly but then quickly regained his swagger. "Don't forget our deal, Kathryn. I've already let the buyers know a child will be accompanying you, but that can be easily changed."

"You don't have to remind me what's at stake," Kathryn hissed. "Just tell me what the hell it is you expect me to do."

"You've already done it. That little show you just made in there. I couldn't have asked for better," he laughed. "I guaranteed them something special with you, and you certainly showed it. Looking them in the eye like that. Challenging them. You easily just shot your starting value up another thousand bars." A gong sounded in the room, and Milo looked towards the door with the buyers. "That's my cue. Sheila will bring you out when it's your turn. Just stand there and hold onto your temper, and you'll see sweet little Maddie in no time at all." He nodded once at Sheila before retreating back to the side doors. "Don't disappoint me, Admiral."

Kathryn stared blindly after him, the closed doors blurring into nothing distinguishable. Only when Milo's voice echoed through the room was she able to pull herself back.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen. You have now seen all the merchandise that will be offered tonight. Because of your discriminating tastes, I offer only the best. Some will be submissive. Some…not so much." A low ripple of amusement could be heard. The inherent evil behind it made Kathryn's stomach clench. "You, of course, know best which type you prefer. But enough talk. Let us begin. First up is a true princess…"

Kathryn couldn't listen. She knew she probably should, just as she knew some part of her still was, but she could not sit here and actively listen as traits of the young girl were offered up to the crowd. Virtues that should be prized were morsels for the wolves to salivate over. To anticipate tearing apart. Even as she tried redirecting her thoughts, a heavy pressure descended over her mind, blanketing her dark thoughts.

"_He has your daughter?"_

It wasn't the first time Kathryn had come into contact with a telepathic species, but aside from the polite Betazoids in her office and the occasional mind meld over the years with Tuvok, it had been awhile. And those contacts certainly hadn't ever felt like this. Instinctively, she sought out the wild woman's eyes and was rewarded with only the slightest hint of acknowledgment. Marshaling her erratic thoughts, Kathryn managed to respond. _"Yes. You?"_

"_My brother's two children are being held…until I am purchased."_

Kathryn's eyes watered at the increasing pressure as the woman's voice sounded in her mind. She wouldn't be able to keep this up. The woman's presence in her mind was too much. Black edges of unconsciousness were already fringing her vision, but there was so much she wanted…needed to know. _"Are you the…Dathomir…"_

"_The witch…yes."_An amused chuckle answered her_. "Breathe, Admiral Kathryn."_

And with that, the pressure released from Kathryn's mind, and she knew the contact had been broken. She sucked in a steadying breath, causing Sheila to tense beside her. She blinked as her vision began expanding back out from the small tunnel it had collapsed to. She'd been dangerously close to blacking out without even realizing it. That would've pissed Sheila off. Might've been worth it. A small smile from the wild woman let her know that even though Kathryn could no longer hear the woman's thoughts, hers were not quite so silent. Kathryn also had the distinct impression that Milo and his cohorts were not aware of the witch woman's gift. The slightest of nods confirmed this suspicion. Interesting.

"Sold to Taaken for a modest sum of twelve thousand gold pressed bars of latinum."

The declaration brought Kathryn back to the current ongoing situation. She felt the nail on her ring finger crack as she dug them further into the furniture. It was the least she could do as a smattering of applause and the sob of a girl could be heard. Sheila's hand came to rest on her shoulder, giving her a physical reminder to remain still.

"Next, we have a young duke."

Kathryn leaned back in her chair, forcing Sheila to either remove her hand or change positions. It was a small power play but immensely satisfying as it also got Sheila's hand off of her. She closed her eyes and filled her mind with thoughts of Maddie and Chakotay as she tried desperately to block out the droning sound of Milo's voice, knowing that soon he would be extolling her perceived virtues to the lecherous crowd.

She was only mildly successful.

* * *

  
_another little shout out to the Star Wars universe ;)_


	17. Chapter 16

Ch. 16

"You know what, Starfleet? The next time you pull a stunt like that you'd better be packing a phaser!"

Tom immediately got to his feet as B'Elanna blew into the house like a thunderstorm, with Harry right on her heels. It never paid to be too relaxed around her when she was in this kind of a mood. "So, how'd it go?"

"Let's just say that the best thing that ever happened to Harry," B'Elanna growled from the kitchen, "was him getting stranded in the Delta Quadrant. I'd hate to see how he would've turned out if he'd stayed here."

Tom raised his eyebrows at Harry, who had wisely joined him in the living room. "She's overreacting."

"Overreacting?" B'Elanna exclaimed and they heard something being slammed onto the counter. She came out of the kitchen long enough to point a finger at Harry. "You tried to set me up on a date!"

"Oh really?" Tom crossed his arms across his chest and looked at his best friend. "With who?"

"You weren't going to have go on it. I was just trying to keep him _interested_," Harry yelled the last word as B'Elanna stormed towards the bedroom. Looking at Tom, he added quietly, "Lieutenant Prescott."

Tom's lip curled in disgust. "Isn't he the one-"

"Yeah, he is."

"Oh." Tom digested that for a moment. "Why were you-"

"He's in charge of the hangar where they transported Kathryn's shuttle. In order for us to get in to see it, I had to make him think he stood a chance with B'Elanna. You were not going to have to actually go out with him," Harry reiterated as B'Elanna rejoined them after changing clothes.

"So tell me, Harry, was your entire graduating class from the academy pathetic, or was it just you and the petaQ?"

Harry frowned at her. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Lucky for you."

"So you did get to examine the shuttle?" Tom asked.

All the energy seemed to go out of both of them. B'Elanna slumped back against the couch. "We didn't find anything. The burns from weapons scoring didn't carry any known signature. Everything we would use to trace the shuttle's origin was badly damaged. I…there just wasn't much left of the shuttle at all."

"If they were on it," Harry said, "there's no way they survived."

"How'd you make out?" B'Elanna asked. "Did you talk to Nog again?"

Before he could answer, they heard the front door open. Chakotay and Tuvok joined them in the living room. Harry glanced towards the door, and Chakotay answered his unspoken question. "Seven went to my house. We didn't find anything in the evidence collected, and she wanted to interface directly with the house computer system to access the transporter and alarm systems."

"I am sure her methods will be much more direct than those used by the investigation team," Tuvok commented.

"You mean she's going to-" Tom imitated the Borg tubules that were housed in the Seven's hand, "with the computer?"

"Yes," Chakotay confirmed tiredly. "What about you? Have you found out anything? Where's the Doc?"

"Haven't heard from him yet," Tom said quickly jumping in when Harry looked prepared to deliver the bad news about their lack of discovery. "But I did talk to Nog again, and he talked to his uncle. Now Nog wasn't sure what it was he was supposed to be asking, but apparently, his uncle had just heard that this guy, Milo Cyronius, was actually still in business."

"Did you say Milo?" Chakotay asked, sitting forward. "When I talked to Sveta earlier, she said that she'd heard that name. She said as soon as she pressed about who the guy was, everybody just clammed up."

"Well according to Quark, this guy runs the gamut. He likes to deal in one-of-a-kind treasure type pieces that he auctions off. He also has this sort of pleasure cruiser with gambling and whatever else you might want. Assuming you have the money to pay for it," Tom explained. "Now get this, he's also been known to run high-end slave auctions."

"Slave auctions?" Harry asked not understanding. "For what?"

Tom looked uncomfortably at Chakotay and could tell that he already knew. His eyes had darkened considerably, and he was staring at the coffee table, but he answered Harry's question. "For sex." His voice was strained. "The man sells people for sex."

Understanding dawned on Harry's face, and he looked sick. "And that's why they took Kathryn?"

"Could be," Tom said.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Not to be…rude or uh…"

"What?" B'Elanna asked, staring at him.

"Well isn't…I mean...don't these kind of things usually have," he cleared his throat, "uhm…_younger_ girls? I mean, not that the captain is old, 'cause she isn't, by any standard. That's not what I meant."

The last words rushed out of Harry's mouth. After a moment of profound silence, Tom finally took pity on his friend.

"Well, Harry, you're right about it usually being _adolescent_ girls," Tom said, stressing a more appropriate word choice. Harry buried his head in his hands. "But for someone like Kathryn, a celebrity of sorts, there'd be an active market for her as well."

"There are still two facts we are overlooking," Tuvok commented, immune to the uncomfortable tension of the room. "We have no information linking this Cyronius to the disappearance of Admiral Janeway and Madelyn, nor do we yet have proof that they are, in fact, alive."

B'Elanna glared at the Vulcan. He had a point, but she really didn't want to hear it. Apparently, neither did Chakotay. Getting to his feet, he began pacing the floor. "He's right, and even if we did this isn't helping us _find_ them."

"Did Sveta mention anything else?" Tom asked.

"Not really. She just said the more she asked, the less people were willing to say."

"Not unusual for people accustomed to operating outside the legal system."

"Unfortunately, that's true," B'Elanna commented dryly.

"Yeah, but is this guy Milo powerful enough to operate freely?" Harry asked. "I mean, in order for the Captain to be kidnapped, a lot of things had to happen."

No one bothered correcting him on calling Kathryn captain, and his statement hung stale in the air until they heard the whine of a transporter beam. The Doctor unexpectedly materialized in the living room. Finding himself facing the door, he spun around to find them all watching him. "It wasn't Kathryn Janeway in that shuttle. She isn't dead."

* * *

  
The Doctor hurriedly explained about the implants and how he and Dr. Crusher had found no trace of them in the remains. They'd also found a fracture along the right femur that had been attributed to the crash, but closer examination proved that the fracture was actually an older injury.

"Admiral Janeway did in fact have a medical history of multiple fractures in her left leg from a previous shuttle crash, but not her right," the Doctor proclaimed proudly. "That and the missing implants helped me convince Dr. Crusher that the remains had been misidentified."

"What about Madelyn?" Chakotay asked quietly.

The Doctor's face fell. "I wasn't able to determine anything with hers. I'm sorry."

The sense of excitement his news had brought quickly dissipated. Harry scratched his head, "Were you able to determine who the remains did belong to?"

"Sadly, no, and we probably won't, now that they've been so completely tampered with."

"I have a question," B'Elanna said, half raising her hand. "Did you happen to leave any Borg implants in me that you haven't bothered to mention?"

The comm. unit beeped with an incoming call, and Chakotay moved to answer it, missing the rest of the exchange between the EMH and two of his other former Borg patients. He wiped a hand over his face before activating the screen, expecting it to be Gretchen.

"Commander! Oh, I am so happy to see you. I called your house, and Seven of Nine told me you were here. I'm so glad I managed to find you, sir. I mean, Captain."

Chakotay's head was spinning. Tal Celes was the last person he expected to see on the call unit. He sighed inwardly; he should've been expecting this though. The message had gone out to all the crew members in an attempt to inform them of Kathryn's death before Starfleet made the official pronouncement. Now, he would have a deluge of calls expressing sympathy that he really didn't have the energy to deflect. Especially now with the news the Doctor had just given them. He realized belatedly that Celes was still talking.

"…and Tabor is here, too. We were meeting at Deep Space Nine to commiserate about the Captain."

"Deep Space Nine? Isn't that where Quark's is?" Chakotay asked, feeling like his mind was slowly piecing something together.

"Yes, exactly," the young woman said excitedly. "I should get to the point. We met a Ferengi there who knew about the Captain."

"Quark," Chakotay clarified, thinking he was about to hear the same thing Tom had just told him.

"No, not Quark, another Ferengi. He said he saw Kathryn Janeway on a ship. A ship that belonged to this guy named Milo-"

"Cyronius," Chakotay finished with her. He was completely alert now. "What else did he say?"

Celes told him the entire exchange that took place at the bar. "Then Tabor and Dalby kept questioning him. He told us the auction was supposed to take place today or yesterday, depending on the time difference. I wasn't real clear on that. Or he wasn't real clear, but it was supposed to be at a place called Merk's. He gave us the coordinates. Sir, it's on Earth."

Chakotay downloaded the coordinates. "Celes, this is excellent work."

"Thank you, sir. We just wish we could've gotten the information to you in time to save her."

Chakotay had almost cut off the communication when he heard Celes say that, and he forced himself to stop. "She isn't dead, Celes. We're going to get her back."

"You're kidding! No, sir, I mean, of course, you aren't kidding. I would never insinuate that you'd kid about something like this…that's great news. But how? When? " Her face flushed. "Never mind, sir, I know you must have a million things to do right now and don't need me asking all these questions. We're here sir, just let us know if there's anything else we can do."

Chakotay resisted the urge to shake his head. "I'll let you know as soon as we know something definite," he hesitated before continuing, "Celes, did the Ferengi mention Madelyn at all?"

"I'm not sure, sir," she said. "I didn't want to tell you in case it wasn't her. He never saw a child with the Admiral, but he said he did see one on the ship once. I don't know if it was Madelyn or not."

Chakotay nodded and exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He thanked Celes again before signing off, repeating to himself that Maddie was with Kathryn and trying to convince himself of it while he tapped in the comm. code for his house. Seven answered.

"I'm sending you a set of coordinates, Seven. I need to know everything there is to know about them and a place called Merk's."

"Of course," Seven nodded.

"Call as soon as you have it. You'll have to use my comm. badge frequency because we won't be here."

"Where are you going?"

"We'll be at those coordinates."

* * *


	18. Chapter 17

Ch. 17

"Good evening, my name is Commander Tuvok. I'm with Starfleet Security. I need to speak with Mister Jonathon Mercado."

The old Trill that answered the door looked suspiciously at the Vulcan before opening the door further and allowing him entrance into the foyer of the grand house. "Wait here, please."

Tuvok nodded serenely as the man hurriedly ascended the marble staircase. Pretending to admire a large plant in the middle of the foyer, he covertly placed a device among the leafy branches. It defied logic that he found himself in the home of one of the senators currently sitting on the Federation Council at ten o'clock in the evening, but as with many things involving Kathryn Janeway, Tuvok was willing to set aside his incredulity and trust his hunches. After all, the information they had received today pinpointed this home as a central hub in a sex slavery ring that spanned the entire quadrant.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up in time to see the old Trill descending the staircase a few steps behind a man wearing a tuxedo. Tuvok surmised the Senator had been at a function earlier in the evening as his tie was now hanging haphazardly around his neck and the collar of his shirt was unbuttoned. The human didn't look upset or angry, but nor did he look welcoming as he descended the last of the steps and crossed the foyer.

"This is a rather irregular visit, Commander…"

"Tuvok," he supplied. "I apologize for the late hour. Your name came up as a person of contact in a current investigation, and I needed to ask you a few questions. I hope to only take a few minutes of your time."

"A person of contact? I don't suppose I need to call my lawyer, do I?"

"Hardly, sir. It is more a matter of routine," Tuvok replied, his lack of humor deflating the senator's jocularity. "I do not believe my presence here will require any sort of legal consultation."

"Uh huh. Well." Mercado cleared his throat before gesturing to a door to his right. "Might as well take this into the lounge. I don't suppose I can offer you a brandy?"

"A drink will not be necessary," he said, following Mercado, "but I thank you for the offer."

B'Elanna growled as she listened to the exchange over the open comm. frequency. "Take the damn drink, Tuvok. You'll buy us more time."

"Was he able to activate the dispersal field?" Chakotay asked, crouching down next to her outside the house. At B'Elanna's nod, he touched his comm. badge. "All right, Harry, start your scans. Paris, can you transport us inside yet?"

_"Give me one more minute. This place rivals Fort Knox. Even with the dispersal node activated, this guy's got a net on a rotating frequency."_

_"Captain, I'm only picking up three life signs inside. One is with Tuvok, but the other is moving around the house. I still can't penetrate all the rooms, though."_

Chakotay gave B'Elanna a questioning glance. She put away the tricorder and patted her sheathed d'k tgh blade; she was with him. They were either about to break open a cover up that included officials in the highest realms of government, or become the criminals people had once thought they were.

_"Got it." _

Paris's voice barely registered before Chakotay found himself still crouching, but now he was next to a marble staircase instead of the hedge outside. B'Elanna tucked down next to him and pulled her tricorder back out. She quickly pointed out the room where Tuvok and Mercardo were, and she and Chakotay both began moving away from it and further into the expansive home. Moving as quickly as they could, both with tricorders out, they moved from room to room, looking for anything that would confirm the information they'd been given.

After clearing the rooms on the first floor, they'd managed to remain undetected, but they'd also found nothing. Flashing B'Elanna a hand signal, Chakotay indicated that he was going to move up the stairs. Just before he made his move, she caught the back of his shirt. The Trill had just come out of one of the front rooms and was headed in their direction. They both flattened themselves against the wall as much as possible. B'Elanna tightened her grip on the blade she carried, not wanting to have to use it if she could possibly help it. Perspiration beaded on her skin as they listened to the shuffling footsteps grew closer to their position.

And then they stopped. In the middle of the hall. B'Elanna could feel Chakotay holding his breath next to her. She could hear her own heart beating wildly in her chest. What the hell was the old Trill doing just standing in the middle of the room? She slowly unsheathed the dagger, preparing to throw it so the hilt would strike the old man in the head instead of the blade. Her mother would not be pleased with her restraint, but she really didn't want to kill the man. At least, not until she knew what role he played in this affair. After counting five more breaths, she cautiously peeked around the column that was acting as her hiding place.

The old Trill was staring right at her. She sucked in a breath, tensing the muscles in her arm and shoulder. And then he slowly nodded at her. What the hell? She knew Chakotay was growing restless, but she placed her free hand against him, letting him know not to move. The old man jerked his chin, indicating that she should follow him and then began moving past the staircase and into one of the rooms they'd already surveyed. It had been a parlor of some sort, if she remembered correctly, several plush chairs, a fireplace, but nothing that had grabbed her attention.

Moving cautiously, they followed the old man into the room, but he was already gone through a side door leading into an adjoining room. Chakotay whispered, "That side door over there was locked when we came through the first time, and nothing registered on the other side of it."

"Is he helping us? Or just setting us up?" B'Elanna hissed, holding her tricorder out, scanning as much of the room as possible without going too far inside.

Chakotay tapped her shoulder. "I'm going to follow him. Scan every inch of this room. Maybe you'll find something." He moved quickly across the room to the now open doors. Glancing inside he didn't see any movement, and he cautiously moved past the doors.

It was a strange room. There was a small lectern towards the front with an open area next to it. The rest of the room had a graduated incline with a dozen or so plush chairs spaced evenly in alternating rows, each with a desk and a lamp next to it. It reminded him of some of the classrooms at the academy, but none of those had been this small or this extravagantly decorated. A sweet, almost cloying perfume hung in the air, and it didn't escape his notice that the old Trill was nowhere to be seen.

"Chakotay!" B'Elanna's hiss startled him, and he ducked back into the room.

"What is it?" he asked, coming to her side where she was kneeling next to one of the high backed chairs.

"She was here." Her voice was almost a whisper as she showed him the readings on the tricorder. He glanced once at the readings and felt his heart go into his throat. Crouching down, he followed the readings of the tricorder as they increased in intensity until he saw it.

Four perfectly shaped crescent marks were gouged into the arm of the chair.

* * *

Tuvok's keen Vulcan hearing alerted him seconds before the doors to the lounge were slammed open, and Chakotay, followed closely by B'Elanna, stormed into the room.

"What the hell-" Mercado managed to say before the glass of brandy was knocked from his hand, and the raging force that had just entered the room slammed him against the shelves lining the walls, causing several items to topple over onto the floor.

"WHERE IS SHE?"

Spit hit Mercado in the face as he stared into the tattooed face of the enraged man whose hands were now twisting into his shirt. Slowly, it dawned on him that he recognized the furious human from all the news vids of _Voyager's_ homecoming. Admiral Janeway's husband. He'd been told this problem had been taken care of. He'd have to have a word with Milo-

The elbow that smashed into his face, breaking his nose took Mercado by surprise, and he fell to the ground, released by the man called Chakotay.

"TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!"

Mercado could feel blood gushing across his face and knew he was getting it on the carpet. That angered him more than the human raging above him did. He wiped his hand across his face. "Do you have any idea who I am? You have just-"

Chakotay reached down and hauled the man to his feet, driving a fist into the man's stomach, followed by an uppercut to his chin. Mercado flew backwards against the shelves, shattering a vase from Betazed that he'd purchased only two weeks before. He slid down to the floor again, gasping for air. Where the hell was that damn Trill when he needed him?

"It would be wise to tell us whatever information you possess regarding the whereabouts of Kathryn Janeway," the Vulcan said, kneeling next to him.

"Go to hell!" Mercado spat at him. He should've known the security man was in on it. When he'd shown up saying he had questions regarding an investigation, Mercado had been concerned. But after conversing with the man, he'd relaxed, believing the obscure questions he'd been asking had had nothing to do with him or Milo's operation.

"Get up!" Chakotay grabbed the Senator again by the lapels, dragging him to his feet. "Tell me where my wife is, and I might let you live."

"I know who you are. I've seen you on the news, and I've seen the reports. Your wife _is_ dead," Mercado ground out. "And you're just having some grief fueled psychotic episode."

"Supposedly, my wife died days ago," Chakotay said his voice going deathly quiet, "and yet there're traces of her DNA in your parlor that are less than twenty-four hours old."

"That's not possible." The Trill had assured him he'd cleaned up the room. If he'd lied about that…

"We found part of her fingernail gouged into the leather of one of your chairs."

Mercado looked to his left as the small woman with the ridged forehead joined the conversation. She was part of the crew, also. It dawned on him now why the Vulcan had looked familiar as well. Had the entire ship beamed into his house? Chakotay shook him, forcing his attention back on him.

"I don't want to think about what kind of duress my wife was under to have left marks like that," Chakotay choked on the words even as he pulled the man closer to him, "but I assure you, they will be nothing compared to the marks you'll leave if you don't start talking."

"You have no idea what you've gotten involved with here," Mercado spat. "I suggest you go home before your daughter-"

The growl that emanated from the man holding him was the only warning Mercado had before he felt his feet leave the floor. He slid head first into the bottles lining the bar and felt more than one of them shatter, spraying him with smoky liquids. Hands grabbed onto his back, pulling him backwards and then rolling him over. The glass shards cut into his back, and he felt the spilled liquors soaking into his jacket, but the thing that got his attention was the very dangerous looking knife that flashed before his eyes seconds before he felt the extremely sharp edge of it pressing into the soft flesh of his neck.

"I'm going to give you one more chance to tell me what I want to know," Chakotay growled, his hand with the knife holding steadier than his breathing, "or you're going to regret it."

"I told you. I don't kn-"

Mercado screamed in pain as the dagger sliced into his upper leg. He instinctively tried to sit up, reaching for the wound, but was slammed down again, the knife back at his throat sliding across his skin, silencing his struggles before he impaled himself accidentally.

"The next cut will be deeper and more painful, but I assure you, it won't kill you."

"You're insane-"

Again the dagger slashed, causing Mercado to cry out as a red line of fire erupted across his chest. B'Elanna shifted the weight on her feet anxiously, stealing a glance at Tuvok, surprised he hadn't intervened.

"TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!" Chakotay thundered at the man he had pinned down on the bar.

"Okay, all right," Mercado cried out, his words now spilling out of his mouth. "She's downstairs. There's hidden…hidden rooms…downstairs. Ask the Trill, he'll show you."

* * *

:)


	19. Chapter 18

Ch. 18 

"She's downstairs?" Chakotay was shocked, and he let go of the hold he had on Mercado. He looked away from the sniveling man into the equally shocked face of B'Elanna. Recovering quickly, they moved as one out of the room, with Chakotay shouting over his shoulder for Tuvok to stay with Mercado.

The two of them ran down the hall, almost running past the old Trill who stood silently holding open a concealed door for them. Chakotay glanced at the man. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but now wasn't the time as he and B'Elanna squeezed into a tiny elevator that had only one floor option to choose. Not even speaking, they held their breath as the lift slowly descended. Less than a minute passed and the lift settled to a halt with the door sliding silently open.

There was a small, well lit marble hallway in front of them that cornered to the left. Exchanging a quick glance, they moved quietly to the corner not sure of what they would find. Using hand signals, B'Elanna whipped around the corner low while Chakotay covered her. They both froze at the sight that greeted them.

It was another hall way, with two doors staggered on each side of it, but the sight that got their attention was lying in the middle of the floor. A dead Cardassian. And he was obviously dead, as his blood spattered the walls and had made a dark pool on the floor. A low growl echoed off the walls, and B'Elanna looked up to see a shadow unfurling at the end of the hall.

"Chakotay?" Her voice was a warning, and he tore his eyes away from the body in time to see the wildest looking woman he'd ever seen moving towards them. The woman bared her teeth at them, and moved into the light. It was clear now how the Cardassian had died as blood reflected brightly on her scaly garments as she moved like liquid up the hall.

"Who the hell are you?" B'Elanna asked, instinctively getting into a fighting crouch. Watching the woman step casually over the dead body, continuing to advance towards them was like watching a targ stalk its prey.

She was almost within B'Elanna's striking distance when she abruptly stopped. Cocking her head to one side, the woman straightened, staring curiously at Chakotay. B'Elanna glanced between the two of them. The feeling of hostility coming from the woman had completely vanished, but B'Elanna still wasn't sure, and Chakotay's complete lack of reaction had her worried. "Chakotay?"

He shook his head as if emerging from a daze. "She's a telepath…or something like it."

"Oh," B'Elanna said, glancing again at the woman who now stood with her hands clasped docilely in front of her. "Okay, so what does that mean?"

"You are Admiral Kathryn's mate?" The wild woman spoke, startling B'Elanna with her gravely voice.

"Yes." Chakotay nodded. "Have you seen her?"

"Yes." Chakotay's relief at that simple affirmation was palpable, and short lived when the woman continued speaking. "She was here."

"_Was_?" B'Elanna choked. "We were told she was down here now."

"No, she is not here. Only I am here now."

Chakotay swore and slammed his fist against the wall before turning and heading back towards the elevator.

"Why would Merc lie?" B'Elanna asked, following him.

"He probably wanted the Cardassian to kill us," Chakotay growled, mashing the button to recall the elevator.

"Lekatne."

B'Elanna jumped despite herself. The wild woman was now standing by her side at the elevator door. B'Elanna hadn't even heard her move. "I'm sorry?"

"I believe you asked who I was," she answered, her voice sounding amused.

"Oh, right," B'Elanna said distractedly. "I don't suppose you happen to know where they took Kathryn, do you?"

"Sorry, no. I had hoped to lay in wait for others like Nemor to arrive…" Lekatne paused, her forehead creasing slightly as she focused on B'Elanna. "You know him?"

"I knew of him." B'Elanna nodded. "I know someone that will want to thank you for killing him."

The wild woman nodded her understanding as they squeezed in the lift together behind Chakotay. "Nemor did not deserve to live. He foolishly thought he would possess me." She gave B'Elanna a small grin. "Unfortunately, there were others like him here. One of _them_ has your mate."

Chakotay could barely force the words out but he had to know. "Did you see a child with her?"

"No, your child was present only in her thoughts but not in the house. The man, Milo, he told your Kathryn that the child would go with her."

It was a small bit of information that Chakotay had longed to know. The doors of the lift opened and they reentered the house, heading back towards the lounge where they'd left Tuvok and Mercado. "Do you know who took them?"

"No, I was already being brought down there when she was sold. Your mate has a very strong presence. I was able to feel when she left the domain." Lekatne stiffened as they neared the door of the lounge where they'd left Tuvok and Mercado. "One of _them_ is in there."

B'Elanna felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as once again hostility radiated off the woman. "It's the man that owns the house. He's the one that told us Kathryn was downstairs."

The wild woman's lip curled back, exposing sharp teeth. "He knows what happened to your mate."

"Will you help us find her?" Chakotay asked.

She nodded, striding past him and into the lounge. "He will tell me everything."

* * *

  
It was over. She'd been bought and paid for like some cheap trinket found in a Risan pleasure den. That thought alone made Kathryn retch again, her stomach violently voiding itself of all its contents. Finishing what she hoped was the last round, Kathryn leaned back slowly, grabbing for the wash cloth she'd kept by the sink. She brought it to her mouth as she cautiously settled herself against the wall of the tub. The cool feel of its surface leeched into her skin, and she welcomed it.

Stealing a glance towards the closed door leading to the bedroom, she thanked whoever was listening that Maddie slept like a rock. The past few minutes was not something Kathryn would've wanted her to see, and unfortunately, she felt sure that the things she could protect her daughter from were going to be few and far between in the coming weeks.

She had actually been surprised when she'd been beamed back to Milo's ship. She hadn't really expected to return here. But without a word of explanation, Sheila had returned her to her quarters. Kathryn could only guess that her new 'owner' would pick her up from here. Madelyn had already been asleep when she arrived, and for that small favor she'd been thankful as the enormity of what had just happened had sickened Kathryn to the point that she'd fled to the bathroom after only a quick look at her daughter's sleeping form.

It was silly, perhaps, that she'd been in so much denial. But she had been. Even with weeks of preparation, Kathryn hadn't really and truly believed that she would be sold in some black market auction. The knowledge yesterday that Starfleet considered her and Madelyn dead, had been devastating, but she'd rallied. After all, she'd been considered dead before.

So she'd hoped…expected _something_ would happen to intervene. A last minute rescue of some sort either on the ship or at the site, but nothing had happened. Children had been treated as playthings for sadistic adults today, and nothing had saved them. And nothing had saved her nor had she been able to save herself. She didn't even know where those poor children were now, but she could easily imagine their fate. It was the same that awaited her.

Today, she'd witnessed the gathering of more inherently evil people in one room than she'd ever seen before. And that included the various Borg cubes she'd had the unpleasant experience of being aboard. The cubes were a mindless evil controlled by one, whereas this had been several cold and calculating individuals. Her stomach churned again, and Kathryn closed her eyes, attempting to breathe through it.

_"Sold to Nemor for a handsome sum of eighty thousand gold pressed latinum bars."_

_Kathryn's eyes snapped open. Milo's declaration dripped greed with each syllable uttered succinctly as he pronounced the amount. She was next. She was last. The room was empty now, except for her and Sheila, the wild woman having been the last one to leave. The wild woman having now been sold to Nemor, whoever that was. When the gong had sounded, Krat had never touched the witch, but Kathryn had watched as she gracefully moved across the room, treating her guard as superfluous. Just as she reached the doors, Kathryn felt the brief touch of heavy pressure on her mind again._

_"Good luck, Admiral Kathryn."_

_Then she was gone, and the doors had closed. The pressure had lifted almost immediately, but Kathryn could've sworn that the wild woman seemed almost amused at her circumstances. She herself felt resigned and determined, but amused, she was not. The bidding had gone up with each round until now, by her rough total, Milo had almost two hundred thousand bars of latinum. The witch alone had fetched double what the Myrmidon girl brought. _

_When the gong sounded a fifth time, Kathryn stood and moved towards the door, not waiting for Sheila's urging. They entered through a front door, finding the room of bidders now completely darkened. Kathryn bristled at the obvious theatrics as Sheila guided her to a specific spot before retreating. For an interminable moment, she was left alone, and then on a silent cue, dazzling, bright lights snapped on, spotlighting her. Her eyes watered at their intensity, but she resisted the urge to flinch away. Instead, she focused as best she could past the glare, but all she could make out were dark silhouettes. _

"_And now, as usual, we have saved the best for last." Milo's voice sounded from her right, and she allowed her glare to slowly slide to his hidden position. He cleared his throat before continuing, and Kathryn allowed herself to believe it was her doing. "I bring you what no one else can. You've heard of her. You know her. Admiral Kathryn Janeway. Captain of the intrepid starship Voyager. The Federation's newest hero. Her name will go down in history…but will you be lucky enough to have her go down on you?" A sick ripple of laughter crossed the room at Milo's innuendo, and Kathryn had to grind her teeth to keep the disgust she felt from showing on her face. "You've seen a taste of her fire. Her spirit. Who among you is man…or woman enough to control her?" Milo paused again. Only the rustle of cloth could be heard as Kathryn saw some of the dark figures lean forward. "The bidding will begin at __**fifty**__ thousand." _

_Kathryn was shocked at the amount, but the bidding began immediately. Five of the silhouetted figures seemed to be giving serious bids, increasing the bid in one thousand increments, while the rest seemed content to watch and wait for the outcome. When the bid reached one hundred thousand, only two of the figures continued. Having adjusted somewhat to the glare, Kathryn was able to make out small distinctions about the bidder that was closer to her. The flared neck and broad shoulders made her think it was the Cardassian. She was not sorry that his voice had become strained at the one hundred mark and he now seemed reluctant to continue. At his hesitation, Kathryn scanned to the back corner where the other bidder remained cloaked in darkness. She could tell nothing about the person except his voice had never wavered. _

_The Cardassian offered one more increase that was immediately countered. He threw his hands up, signaling defeat as he leaned back in his chair. Kathryn's eyes flicked to Milo's hidden spot._

"_Sold to Merc for one hundred twelve thousand bars."_

Kathryn slowly opened her eyes to unsurprisingly find herself still sitting on the floor of her bathroom. Feeling slightly steadier, she pushed herself up to the sink so she could wash out her mouth and her wash cloth. Accidentally catching her reflection in the mirror, Kathryn leaned closer inspecting her image. Thanks to Milo's machinations, her reflection had changed somewhat, but as she peered into her still too-blue eyes, she could still see herself in them. Fury roiled in her pupils.

Those buyers had fought over who got to buy her because of her spirit. Her determination. They wanted to own her. To break her. A brief smile flitted across her face that could only be considered feral in nature. They wanted to see what she was made of…they would. She'd give them every last bit of strategizing, rebellious, stubborn, Starfleet-trained scrap she had. And then they would see who was left standing.

* * *

_  
Thank you for all the feedback I've been receiving. I truly appreciate it, and hope you'll stay with me as this story isn't over yet. ;) _


	20. Chapter 19

Ch 19

"Where…exactly did you say you found her?" Tom asked, eyeing the wild looking woman that stood over the cowering politician.

When Tuvok had called requesting that Tom beam down with his medkit, he'd immediately come down, leaving Harry manning the Flyer. When Tom had mentioned the field protecting the house from transports, Tuvok had wryly advised him to use the front door. An old Trill had opened the door and led Tom to the lounge where the politician, in-between sobs of pain, had continually threatened their careers, their lives, and their general well-being. It had thrilled Tom to no end when Chakotay, B'Elanna, and this new woman had appeared, silencing the senator's trite attempts to intimidate them.

B'Elanna shrugged in answer to Tom's question. "She was downstairs."

"Uh huh," Tom nodded, "and uh, what's she doing now?"

"Getting answers?" B'Elanna mused.

"I think it's probably a good thing I still have this then," he said, holding up the medkit.

"I don't think you're going to need it. He seems to be pretty talkative now."

And he was. Mercado was telling Tuvok and Chakotay about the entire operation. His cut of the money. Naming some of the buyers. How they acquired new merchandise. Milo wasn't the only one that worked through Merc's house, his were just some of the best.

"You still haven't told me the one thing I want to know," Chakotay growled menacingly. "Who bought my wife? Who _bought_ Admiral Kathryn Janeway."

"I…uh…I did." Mercado swallowed nervously, glancing quickly between Chakotay and Lekatne. "B-but not for myself. I was just buying for someone else. I swear."

Lekatne nodded silently, confirming to Chakotay what the man said was the truth.

"Tell us who."

"I don't know! Milo told me a certain amount. I couldn't bid over that amount, but I never knew who it was for." He jumped as though he'd been struck by an invisible hand. "Please, I swear I don't know."

"You know something!" Lekatne spoke forcefully, and it seemed like her voice filled the entire room. The hair on the back of Tom's neck stood on end, and he was thankful he wasn't the subject of her ire. "Tell the truth. All of it."

Mercado shrunk further into the chair. "I don't know his name. I swear I don't… but he's…he's a king or something on some backwater planet. Milo's delivering her to him. Said it would take him a few days to get there. That's it…that's all I know."

"Tell us about Milo's ship. How do I find it?" Chakotay asked, barely controlling himself at the continued thought of Kathryn being bought and delivered like she was some kind of furniture. An accent piece to dress up a person's bedroom.

"I…can't." Mercado stammered and immediately cried out again as though in pain. Tuvok's gaze slid to the wild woman standing next to him. "Okay. All right, just make her stop." Mercado sucked in a lungful of air as though he'd just been released from some sort of stranglehold. Tom and B'Elanna exchanged a look, but Chakotay never took his eyes off Mercado.

"Tell us."

Mercado nodded and sweat ran down his forehead. "Okay, uh, everything I have on his ship is in my files on the desk."

Chakotay jerked a head at B'Elanna and she went over to look. "Lekatne, is there anything else the senator isn't telling us?"

She was quiet for a minute. "Not about Admiral Kathryn, but he knows more about the operation than he's saying. Other buyers, I think."

"Starfleet Security can get that out of him. Milo already has a head start, we need to move," Chakotay said. "Tuvok, call Starfleet Security. Get them here."

"We're already here, Captain," Commander Hughes said, striding into the office with several officers waiting in the hall behind him. "And you better have a damn good reason for being here-"

"Admiral Janeway is alive," Chakotay said, cutting the man off. "My wife. The one you've already written off for dead. How's that for a good reason?"

The commander paused. "What are you talking about?"

"If you had done your job, you'd know," Chakotay growled. "You want answers, you ask him. My team and I are leaving."

"No one is going anywhere."

Chakotay looked towards the door, surprised. He hadn't been expecting the head of Starfleet Security to arrive. "Admiral Brislin, I was just explaining to Commander Hughes that he needs to take this man," he pointed towards Mercado, "into custody. He has all the answers to the disappearance of my wife as well as operations involving a sex slavery ring that has been operating right here in this city."

Brislin looked towards Mercado and then surveyed all the occupants of the room. He ran a hand across his chin before addressing Chakotay. "I don't know how you all did things in the Delta Quadrant, but this is not how we operate, Captain. You don't go barging into people's homes to interrogate them, and you certainly don't do it to people currently sitting on the Federation Council."

"Time is of the essence, sir," Chakotay refused to back down, "and your team wasn't getting the job done."

Brislin shared a look with Hughes. "Janeway is alive, huh? He told you that?"

"That and a lot of other information that I'm sure Starfleet will find interesting."

"And how can you rely on him to tell the truth, Captain?"

Chakotay turned to introduce Lekatne only to find she was nowhere in sight. "Where did she-"

There was a low chuckle from the door way, and the old Trill stepped forward. "She left. Her people can do that. They don't particularly like authority figures," he said, eyeing the admiral. "But, I can tell you everything you want to know, and back up everything that has already been said."

"And…you are?" Brislin asked skeptically.

"Wesbeck Powell, but everyone just calls me Powell," he said, with a mock bow towards Mercado. "I've been working for decades to infiltrate this ring ever since my previous host body was abused by their…business." The Trill's eyes seemed to darken at the thought. "But it's only in the past year, I've been able to have a role close enough to the inside to finally do some damage."

"You son-of-a-bitch," with the disappearance of the witch, Mercado had once again found his voice, "It was _you_? You're the reason-"

"The reason a lot of your buyers have been winding up dead recently? Yes," Powell admitted proudly. "Except for Nemor, I can't take any credit for him."

"Nemor?" Hughes asked.

"He's downstairs," B'Elanna answered dryly. "Don't worry, he isn't going anywhere."

Powell continued, "Sometimes it takes me awhile, but I've contacted the family members of every girl that's been sold out of here. Given them the locations and names of who purchased them. Fathers, sisters," he nodded towards Chakotay, "Husbands. They don't take too kindly to having their loved ones kidnapped. _They_ are the ones that have been taking care of your buyers after the fact while I gathered evidence to take out the likes of you and Cyronius."

"Do you know who bought Kathryn?" Chakotay asked urgently. "Do you know where Milo is taking her?"

"I'm sorry, I don't have the name," Powell said. "I know it takes Milo a few days to get there, but I haven't been able to find out the coordinates or the name of the planet, yet." He looked disgustedly at Mercado. "Another girl was taken there a few weeks back, her family is already searching, but last I heard they had not yet found this so called _king_."

"I'll look for Milo first, but if we're too late with him, I'll find this king," Chakotay stated emphatically, shaking the Trill's hand. "Thank you."

"When you find Milo," Powell said, "give Sheila my regards. You'll know her when you see her, and she'll remember me."

Chakotay nodded that he would and headed for the door. A security officer that had arrived with Admiral Brislin stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"Captain," Brislin called out, "where do you think you're going? We're not finished here."

"I'm going to get my wife and child, _sir_," Chakotay tossed back over his shoulder, barely taking his eyes off the security officer, "you can court martial me when I get back."

"What about your crew, Captain? Would you have them court martialed as well?"

"There are more important things than Starfleet," B'Elanna said as she purposefully bumped the admiral when she moved past him to join Chakotay at the door.

Brislin sighed, nodding his head at the security guard, signaling him to move out of their way. "This isn't over yet, Captain."

Tom paused at the door on his way out. "It's like you said, sir, you _don't_ know how we did things in the Delta Quadrant, but I'll tell you this…when it's all over, Admiral Janeway and Madelyn will be standing here with us. You can count on that."

* * *


	21. Chapter 20

Disclaimer and notes are in the prologue.

* * *

  
Ch. 20

Something had changed. Kathryn's body was very attuned to space travel, and she'd awoken almost immediately when the ship had shifted to warp. She didn't feel like she'd been asleep that long, but she couldn't be sure. Despite how hard she'd tried, the days aboard Milo's ship had been exhausting emotionally, and after she'd settled her peace in the bathroom earlier, she'd come out and climbed into bed, spooning against her daughter and falling asleep almost immediately.

Opening her eyes and slowly stretching her legs out, Kathryn gently rolled out of the bed she was sharing with Madelyn. She pulled the covers back up to Maddie's shoulders, marveling again that the kid could sleep through anything. The sleep of the innocent. All of this would be so much easier to endure if it wasn't for her fear for her daughter. At least with Milo she knew what to expect, but now with whoever this Merc was that had bought her, she would have to begin playing a whole new game. New rules, but with the same priorities. Protect Maddie. Find a way to escape. Protect herself.

She didn't really know if she believed the third thing on the list was possible anymore, but she'd already given herself this pep talk once. She'd give them hell for as long as she could. Hearing the door to the parlor slide open, Kathryn grabbed for her robe and steeled herself to begin the game. With one last look at Madelyn, she walked out to the parlor, expecting to finally meet this Merc.

Much to her surprise, she found Milo helping himself to a drink while sprawling across the couch. If the smell was any indication, the drink he now slurped from was not his first since she'd last seen him. "Kathryn...my dear, dear Kathryn. You've made me a very rich man today. Come, sit, have a drink with me."

"I think not," she said, ignoring his patting of the seat next to him, choosing instead to sit across from him. She would not drink with the man, but she did need information.

"I bet if it was coffee, you'd join me for a drink," he slurred. "I understand you have quite the taste for it."

"And how would you know that?" It was hardly a state secret that she enjoyed coffee, but she still felt uncomfortable with the casual way Milo seemed to hold information about her.

"That admiral, of course," Milo said dismissively, waving his hand in the air. "I made him tell me everything he knew about you, no matter how mundane. And what he didn't know…I made him find out."

"What admiral?" Kathryn asked quietly, almost frightened of the answer. Ever since this insanity had started, she'd tried to piece together the hows and whys, but she hadn't been able to get very far. Now, she had a sinking sensation that the entire scheme was more devious than she had ever imagined.

"Oh, you know the one." Milo seemed to be having a hard time concentrating, and Kathryn had to stop herself from reaching over and shaking the information out of him. Then his eyes widened as he remembered. "Brislin. The one that introduced us. You remember him."

Her mind flashed back to the banquet again. The admiral she barely knew throwing an arm around her shoulders. Milo's roving eyes. The admiral's smug grin. Kathryn's blood boiled and her voice was a harsh whisper. "What did he do?"

"Everything." Milo shrugged. "I would never have looked twice at you if it wasn't for him, but he went on and on about you. Telling me how you captivated the hearts and minds of everyone you met. How every man you graced with a smile fell instantly in love with you." He leaned forward. "Mind you, I was fairly sure he was feeding me a line, but I agreed to meet you and decide for myself. He convinced me to come to that banquet so I could observe you there 'in your element'." Milo rolled his eyes. "But I have to admit, the old man was right. I watched that night, and everyone in that room gravitated towards you like you were their sun. I knew then I could make a fortune off you."

Kathryn was reeling. She couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it. An admiral had done this to her. And not only that, but someone with that high of a standing in Starfleet not only knew about the slavery ring but also, in some way, condoned it. "Why…why did he do this?"

"Even your vaunted society has its ugly underbelly, Kathryn. And no matter how far up the social ladder one climbs, people will always have their vices. Brislin's vice is gambling, and apparently he isn't very good at it." Milo's voice was thick with disdain. "Seems he played above his pay grade and ended up with some debts that he couldn't afford. Those debts got turned over to me. He has an adopted daughter that's half Risan and half Betazoid; imagine the possibilities."

"You were going to take and sell his daughter?" she asked disgustedly.

"Yes. He had no other means to pay his debts. I don't deal in espionage or weapons, so his assorted contacts at Starfleet were of no use to me. But, of course, he didn't want anything to happen to his daughter." He leaned back, sipping from his drink. "Lucky him, you chose that moment to come streaking across the sky."

"But…how?"

"No idea, really," Milo shrugged. "It took him a few months to arrange everything, but he's been around. Knows all the ins and outs. He knows contacts of a disreputable nature, as evidenced by his many gambling debts." He laughed. "I tell you one thing, though. Those thugs that took you from your house, they were definitely hired muscle. There's no way professionals would've left that big a mess. Not to mention, bruising the merchandise. Amateurs." Milo scoffed and shook his head as though disgusted he had to work with such people. "Even controlling the investigation, Brislin had to do some cover up after that fiasco. That's the whole reason we arranged to have them find your bodies. Throw the investigation off track. Get it closed."

Even through the shock of everything she'd just found out, Kathryn felt a surge of hope. "My people were getting too close, weren't they?"

Now it was Milo's turn to look uncomfortable. "What are you talking about?"

Kathryn smiled. "My crew. My husband. They didn't accept the official story, did they? They started their own investigation."

"So what if they did?" His eyes narrowed. "Doesn't matter now. Your husband is the one that confirmed the rank bar found with the bodies was yours. He thinks you're dead."

"You don't know my husband very well." She leaned forward. "Somehow, I don't think Merc will care for it very much when a dozen Starfleet officers show up at his door, demanding my release."

Milo let out a sharp bark of laughter. It was humorless, and Kathryn didn't like it. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but she knew she'd somehow misspoken, and Milo was going to capitalize on her mistake.

"You understand so little of my world, Kathryn. Your high ideals and virtues will be such a handicap for you." He stood, circling behind the couch towards the bar. "Mercado was nothing more than a front man. A stand-in. He owns the house. Arranges the meetings. But he doesn't buy and he doesn't play." Kathryn smelled the aroma of coffee seconds before he put a cup and saucer in front of her. "You, my dear, were purchased by an elitist. He…chooses to have his merchandise delivered." Milo gestured to himself and the ship.

Kathryn pointedly ignored the coffee in front of her, quite a feat with the potent aroma promising her that it was top-quality stuff, but then, she wouldn't expect any less of Milo, would she? So she was being taken elsewhere. She couldn't help but feel a profound relief at knowing she had a little while longer…a little longer for Chakotay to find them. It didn't mean she wanted to spend the extra time with Milo, though. She let her cold glare settle on him, knowing he could rarely hold up under her direct gaze. "Am I supposed to be impressed with you now? Knowing you are nothing more than a delivery boy?"

Milo let out his breath in an undignified snort of disgust. "You always have to be so difficult, don't you?" The fact that his smile was forming and that he hadn't looked away yet made her unpleasantly apprehensive as he leaned forward in his chair. "So hard, always determined to prove that you're stronger, better than everyone around you."

"In current company, it isn't difficult," she quipped.

"That's the Starfleet in you talking now, Kathryn," he scoffed, taking another long drink from the glass he'd refilled while fetching her coffee. He shook his head. "I really do despise your kind, you know," he informed her, swiping the back of a fat hand across his mouth as he launched into his speech. "Always so full of your noble values and your high morals. So convinced of your own superiority, convinced of your untouchability. Well just look where it's gotten _you_, Admiral," he taunted. "Look around you. You're on a slave ship, about to be handed over to become a rich man's plaything. _That's_ where all your nobility and fine principles have gotten you. And it's gotten your daughter caught up in it all with you. Well done."

Even with his infuriating comments, her look of disdain never faltered. Milo's complexion flushed darker in annoyance. "You know what? I was feeling slightly guilty about your buyer; after all, there was dear little Maddie to think of. But now I'm glad Nemor didn't take you. Not after the hell you've made my life these past weeks. You deserve to get worse than the Cardy."

"There's nothing worse than being held captive by a Cardassian," she bit back.

"You sound so sure about that, Admiral, but believe me, there are worse evils in this universe." He pushed himself to his feet and circled behind her. His hands came to a rest on her shoulders, and she repressed the urge to rip them off. His voice was almost a whisper in her ear. "And I promise that, very soon, you will experience first hand every single one of those evils."

Kathryn launched herself to her feet, pushing him slightly off balance, but he backed towards the door, hands raised. He chuckled as the doors slid open. "Sleep well, Kathryn…while you can."

Her breathing came hard and fast as she stared at the closed doors, clenching and unclenching her muscles in mute frustration. She knew his words were meant to frighten her, and it bothered her immensely that she felt he was telling the truth.

"Mom?" Madelyn's sleepy, whispered voice startled her, and she looked up to see her daughter standing in the doorway of the bedroom. Her hair fell loose down her back and haphazardly across her face, and Kathryn could see the tail end of the sheet still clutched in her hand.

Kathryn crossed to the doorway and turned her daughter back to the bed. Maddie climbed back in without argument, a true testament to how asleep she still was. Kathryn picked the blanket up from the floor and threw it back on the bed, pulling it up under Maddie's arms. Leaning down, she kissed her daughter's forehead. "Go back to sleep, honey."

Maddie turned on her side as Kathryn took a seat in the chair next to the bed. "What did Mister Milo want?"

"Nothing important," Kathryn answered her quietly, tucking an errant lock of hair behind Maddie's shoulder. "Just try to go back to sleep, okay?"

"Okay," Maddie mumbled sleepily.

Kathryn bit her lip, sucking in an unsteady breath. She had accepted a long time ago that her job entailed unusual risks, but Maddie was innocent. She didn't deserve this. She shouldn't have to wake up in a strange bed to hear her mother arguing with a strange man. She should be home with her toys, asleep in her own bed. Safe.

"Don't worry, Mom," Maddie mumbled, and Kathryn quickly wiped a hand under her eyes before any errant tears could spill down her cheeks. She looked down at her daughter whose eyes were still closed.

"Maddie?" she whispered, wondering if her daughter was actually awake or just talking in her sleep.

"It'll be okay," Maddie whispered back. "Daddy's coming. He promised."

* * *


	22. Chapter 21

Ch. 21

Admiral Brislin stared out his office window. The San Francisco skyline was still dark, but the first traces of pink were starting to appear. He sighed. It was moments like this that were the only time he allowed himself to doubt. And after the events of last night, he knew he had every reason to worry. His office door slid open. Brislin already knew who had entered.

"Sir, what now?"

"There's a PADD on my desk. I've already approved your extended leave," Brislin said without turning around.

"My what?"

"Your leave. You're taking at least a month off." Brislin turned to his desk and took his seat. "If this all blows over you can come back as though you were simply away on vacation, if it doesn't, this should give you more than enough time to get yourself and my daughter far away from here."

The man in front of Brislin's desk scoffed. "I can't believe I ever went along with you."

"You had your reasons. Just as I did," Brislin bristled slightly. They'd been over this before. "So, are you going to do as I ask?"

"Of course," the man said bitterly, "I don't have much choice left anymore, do I?" He deflated slightly and slumped into the seat across from Brislin. "She's going to want to know."

"Of course, she'll want to know. She's my daughter, after all, she doesn't like being kept in the dark. You'll just have to tell her it's classified. She'll accept that." Brislin pulled a bottle out of his desk drawer and poured them both a drink. "Are you going to marry her?"

"If she'll have me," he said, accepting the drink. The younger man cradled the glass for a moment before asking, "Are you going to warn Milo?"

Brislin sipped the brandy and felt the warm burn as it slid down his throat. He'd been thinking about that ever since Chakotay had stormed away from Mercado's house earlier in the night. He didn't know what the former Maquis had planned, but if he caught up to Milo, he would no doubt garner enough information to lead him straight to Brislin's door. The Admiral didn't relish that idea, but he also had no desire to warn the pompous little auctioneer, either. It would serve Milo right to get caught after all this time. He chuckled, remembering their last conversation. "No, I won't warn him. He told me not to call him again."

The younger man nodded. "What about you?"

"I've made arrangements," Brislin answered coyly. "If Chakotay does manage to catch Milo, I'll hear about it. I'll have enough time to disappear before anything is linked back to me."

"What about Janeway?"

"What about her?"

"You aren't worried about her at all?"

"No," Brislin scoffed. "Janeway…is the least of my concerns. She'll be dead long before her crew manages to find her."

* * *

Chakotay lay staring at the ceiling above his bunk, listening to the ship's powerful engines. He couldn't help but think the smaller Defiant class ship was louder than _Voyager_ had ever been but knew it was probably just his pride in _Voyager_. At any rate, he was simply thankful they had a ship at all as _Voyager_ was still in the middle of a refit. The _Pendragon _was supposed to be in dry dock as well, but being an admiral still had some perks.

"_You had better have a damn good reason for waking me up in the middle of the night, Captain."_

_Admiral Patterson answered the door of his private residence dressed in a bathrobe. Chakotay had called before having Harry beam him down from the Flyer, but he admittedly hadn't given the man much notice before his arrival._

_"I do, sir. It's Kathryn. She's alive. I need your he-"_

_"Katie's alive?"_

_"Yes, sir, and so is my daughter, but I need your help to ensure they stay that way." _

_Patterson ushered Chakotay into the house, and he began to explain everything that had happened that night. _

_"Mercado?" Patterson said disbelievingly. "That's hard to believe. I've met the man, and I would never have thought…"_

_"Yes, sir. We obtained direct evidence of his involvement." Chakotay produced the tricorder that had recorded Kathryn's DNA. "There was also a witness who was there speaking with the security team when we left. He can implicate Mercado and others in everything I've said so far."_

_"And, you're telling me, one of these…predators has Katie?" Patterson asked, his voice having lost all traces of sleep._

_"For all intents and purposes, yes. She's being taken to him as we speak."_

_"Taken where?"_

_"That's one of my problems, sir. I don't know the exact planet," Chakotay said and watched as Patterson's face fell slightly. "Mercado referred to it as a backwater planet, which makes me think it's a pre-warp society. He also said it takes about five days to travel there."_

_"Well, that narrows it down, then." Patterson opened his personal terminal and began scrolling through information. "There aren't too many systems within fifteen light years that still have pre-warp societies. Usually only a moon or something that's been left to evolve on its own," he paused before continuing. "If she is on the planet before you reach her, we would have to proceed with caution. The Prime Directive-"_

_"Yes, sir. That's why I intend for my team to be small. We'll get in and out with minimal exposure." _

_"You don't understand." Patterson shook his head. "A mission like this would take full approval from higher…"_

_"We don't have that kind of time, sir," Chakotay growled. "__**Kathryn**__ doesn't have that kind of time."_

_Patterson looked hesitant but nodded his understanding._

_"If we can get to Milo's ship before he makes delivery, that will simplify things even more, but in order to do that I need a fast ship," Chakotay pressed. _

_"I know of a ship that would be fast enough," the old admiral said cagily, "but how would you find this…Milo?"_

_"We have the specifications of his ship."_

_Patterson hit his desk with the palm of his hand. "Why didn't you say so? We can put it out to all ships to be on the lookout for him and have him detained."_

_This time it was Chakotay's turn to hesitate. "I'm afraid we can't do that, sir."_

_"Why the hell not?"_

_"I came to you in particular, sir, because Kathryn trusts you," Chakotay explained, "but I have reason to believe that there are people within Starfleet that are involved with this ring. If word gets out to the wrong person, they could alert Milo and he could…get rid of the evidence."_

_Patterson paled at the meaning behind Chakotay's words. "What reasons do you have?"_

_Chakotay outlined the false evidence the Doctor had discovered, thankful he did have something more than his gut instinct to tell the Admiral. He also mentioned the transport system in his home being deactivated as well as the lack of security footage. "Too many things don't add up, Admiral."_

_The older man rubbed the whiskers on his chin and was quiet for several minutes. Chakotay shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He'd been meeting with the Admiral for less than an hour, but he still felt like it was taking too long. Precious minutes that Kathryn was being ferried further away from him. Without saying a word, Patterson picked up a PADD and began inputting information. _

_"Here's the location and security codes for the USS Pendragon. It's the ship designated for my missions, and it's fast. It doesn't have a crew assigned to it right now since we don't have as much need for the Defiant class ships now that the war is over." He handed the PADD to Chakotay. "But you will need more than yourself to fly it. I assume you have a crew already."_

_"That's taken care of, sir."_

_Patterson nodded. "Go on up there and get her powered up. I'll clear you for departure, and I'll find this Milo or at least a record of which direction he's headed which ought to narrow down our search." He held up his hand when Chakotay started to interrupt. "I have my contacts, Captain. People I can trust. Not to mention there's plenty of satellites out there I can task that will track him when he goes by. I'll send you the updates as I get them."_

_Chakotay stood. "Thank you, sir."_

_"I have every intention of spoiling your daughter to no end. In order to do that, you have to bring them both back here." Patterson's tone lowered. "Get in and get out, Captain. We need to keep this as quiet as possible."_

_"Understood."_

_"Once you get Katie back here, I'm sure she'll take great pleasure in blowing the top off this whole thing herself."_

_Chakotay nodded. "I couldn't agree with you more, sir."_

Now, days later, they were closing in on Milo's ship. By all indications, he was headed towards the Altair system. While a few of the planets in that system were long standing members of the Federation, they did have one planet and two moons which had pre-warp societies. And unfortunately, Milo had had a head start on them. Whether or not it was enough of a start to have already dropped off his human cargo remained to be seen.

Chakotay turned over on his side and stared at the desk that also occupied the space of the captain's quarters cum ready room. Apparently B'Elanna had been nominated by their small crew to inform him that he needed to rest, and that if he didn't, she would come up from the engine room and physically remove him from the command deck. He still wasn't sure if the threat alone made him acquiesce or if it was more that he didn't want to take her away from the engines. She had been working almost non-stop since they'd boarded the ship, tweaking the manifolds, adjusting relays, and anything else she could think of to get the slightest bit more speed available. She'd already ratcheted them from warp nine to warp nine point five.

And unfortunately, he agreed. He did need to sleep. He could feel fatigue dragging at him, pulling on him. Closing his eyes, he saw her. Just like he knew he would. Just like he had every time he'd tried to sleep since this whole thing started. Kathryn. His Kathryn. Sometimes she was lying on the bed in sickbay, sensors blaring at him that she was dead or dying. Other times he saw her bloodied and mangled, reaching for him to help her. Then there were the other times like how he saw her now. Defeated. Crumpled on a bare floor, holding tight to the body of their daughter. Her blue eyes were vacant and unseeing even as her hands tightened in Madelyn's clothes as though her grip alone could bring their daughter back to life.

"Where were you, Chakotay? We held on as long as we could, but you never came. You let her down. You let me down. And now we're both dead. You _failed_ us." She turned to him and he could see now the hollow film of death had settled over her eyes. "You were too late."

Chakotay sat up, gasping for air. His heart felt like it would beat itself right out of his chest. Swinging his legs off the bunk and sitting up, he scrubbed shaking hands over his face and through his hair. It had just been another dream. They weren't dead yet. They couldn't be. Milo wouldn't have gone to all this trouble just to kill them now. Of course, that didn't mean any number of other horrible things couldn't have happened to them by now.

The door to the ready room slid open, and Tom's head poked inside. Spotting Chakotay sitting up on the bed, he walked the rest of the way into the room. "Everything okay?"

"Tom?" Chakotay asked, still feeling half way between waking and dreaming. "What are you doing in here?"

"You didn't answer the chime." Tom waved a hand absently towards the door. "It's been six hours."

"Six hours?" Chakotay shook his head and got to his feet. "Anything new?"

"We're still closing ground on his ship and Seven is working on the long range scans, but nothing new there. I did, however, want to show you this," Tom paused, tapping a PADD against his hand. "Lieutenant Nog came through for us and actually got an image from his uncle..._this_ is Milo Cyronius."

Tom offered Chakotay the PADD with an image already captured on the screen. It wasn't a great image, obviously taken either by a surveillance camera or some other discreet recorder, but it was the first time Chakotay had actually laid eyes on the man. He was human. Older. Overweight. Beady eyes with a pasty white complexion. He hardly looked threatening. And yet, Chakotay loathed him on sight with every fiber in his being.

"He doesn't really look like what I imagined," Tom commented.

Chakotay tore his gaze away from the PADD with some effort. "What did you imagine?"

The tone was normal, the timber of his voice strong. The uncharacteristically stunted cadence of the words was the only thing off in his reply, and only a handful of people in the galaxy would have noticed it at all.

Tom swallowed, sympathizing with the untenable position the man in front of him was facing.

"If it means anything, from all indications, he doesn't run the kind of operation that you'd expect of someone in that...trade. His business is reputedly...clean. He doesn't deal in what his type call 'common trafficking'. Apparently, he's some sort of elitist in this circle, which means they probably haven't been as bad off as they could have been if they'd been in less...professional hands."

"Do you honestly think that makes me feel one tiny bit better?" The dangerous tinge in Chakotay's voice was clear to be heard now as he turned back from the pacing he'd begun, studying his companion. The muscles of Chakotay's cheek twitched as his teeth ground together. From anyone else, those statements might have been an invitation for a right hook to the jaw. From Tom Paris, who had a wife and daughter of his own, he knew the words were meant as the only form of comfort that could be offered right now. From one husband and father to another. That fact did not make the comfort any less cold.

* * *


	23. Chapter 22

Ch. 22

The sapphire colored veil she was being forced to wear was absurd. It was transparent unless the light hit it at the wrong angle, and then she couldn't see anything. As soon as the doors to the receiving hall opened, allowing light to cascade in, Kathryn grimaced as once again her entire field of vision became the veil. Madelyn tugged at her hand at the same time Stefan nudged her in the back, and she slowly moved forward, forcing herself to trust that her daughter wouldn't let her trip over anything too obvious.

After five days of traveling, Milo's ship had dropped out of warp only a few hours earlier, and in short order, he and Sheila had appeared in her quarters. They had arrived at the planet, and immediately, their audience with the sovereign that had bought Kathryn had been scheduled. They'd brought her a new outfit, and she was extremely thankful that it covered more than what she'd been forced to wear to the auction. The silky dark blue material would flow with her as she moved, revealing only tantalizing glimpses of her skin as she walked. Despite the conscious feel of being more covered, it did not escape her notice how thin and flimsy the material actually was. Easily torn. Easily removed. Repressing a shudder, she shut down that line of thinking.

They'd beamed down. Milo, Sheila, Stefan, Kathryn and Madelyn. Neither she nor Maddie had been put in any restraints, and she'd given Maddie specific instructions to do as she was told and to not draw attention to herself. She could only hope her daughter would follow instructions for a change. They'd waited for several minutes until Milo's name had been announced and he, with Sheila hanging on his arm, strode forward.

Taking cautious steps, following behind Milo and Sheila, Kathryn was thankful to see her vision clearing slightly as her eyes adjusted to the light filtering through the veil. She could at least now see where she was walking, even if she couldn't make out specific details about the obviously huge hall they had entered. Tall marbled columns and windows with colored glass lined both sides as their little party moved down the middle of it. Kathryn couldn't see very far, but Maddie's ooo's and ah's made her think it must be magnificent. She could also see they were not the only ones there. More than one moving figure caught her eye as they passed, and while they appeared humanoid in stature that was the only thing she could tell.

Stefan tugged on her shoulder, and she stopped, watching as Milo and Sheila, a few steps in front of them, bowed at the waist in front of a small rise of stairs. Kathryn could only imagine this was the dais for the ruler here. She could see far enough to make out a throne or a chair of some kind, but no one was there. A voice boomed out across the hall and she felt Maddie jump next to her.

"Milo Cyronious and Lady Sheila of Bartome, his majesty welcomes you."

Milo and Sheila straightened before turning to the side and taking several steps back, leaving Kathryn and Maddie front and center. Kathryn felt Stefan shift behind her, placing his hand on her back. It was almost as if he was encouraging her to be strong, and she was almost thankful for his presence. At the very least, it wasn't Krat or Skor she was stuck with at this particular moment. She could almost let herself believe it was Chakotay standing so close to her, lending her his strength, his support. She felt Maddie move beside her, and she squeezed her hand tight, encouraging her daughter to stay still.

Finally, she saw movement on the dais as a figure stepped out from the side. Even through the veil, Kathryn could tell he was humanoid. Tall. Powerful. She felt her heart speed up even as she schooled her features into her command mask. He approached her slowly, taking his time on the few stairs, and something about the way he walked made her think twice. It was so similar.

He wore dark pants with a light colored shirt, not at all the robes she'd been expecting. The closer he came, the more detail she was able to make out. Dark hair. Skin that was darker than hers. So very much like…he was only a few steps away now and she could almost see his features. Her breath caught in her throat as he reached out a single hand to lift the veil covering her face.

Kathryn felt like crying. "Chakotay?"

He nodded, and his hand stroked the side of her face. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, allowing herself at least for a moment to rejoice. He was here. They'd made it in time. There were so many questions, and they still had to deal with Milo and Sheila and whoever was supposed to actually be the ruler here, but for one tiny moment, Kathryn simply indulged in the comfort of his touch.

Maddie was tugging on her hand now, and Kathryn thought she must be ecstatic to see her father. Opening her eyes, Kathryn had to struggle past a moment of extreme dizziness before she was able to speak. "How…how did you find us?"

Chakotay gave her a little wink before glancing over to his right. She followed his gaze to where Milo, Sheila, and Stefan stood. She couldn't wait to have them hauled in by Starfleet Security. She'd break open their whole slavery ring and have every single one of them serving time.

"Mama!" Maddie was insistent, pulling on her arm, and she looked down at her daughter. She looked very upset, and Kathryn couldn't understand why. But even as she looked down at Maddie, another wave of dizziness swept over her, and she had to close her eyes against it. When she did, her mind flashed over the image of the three people she had just seen. Milo. Sheila. And Stefan.

Stefan.

Kathryn frowned. If Stefan was over there, whose hand was on her back? She opened her eyes again to look at her husband. He was still standing there but now he looked concerned. Pained almost. She saw his mouth move but it wasn't Chakotay's voice she heard.

"What is it?"

Thinking he was talking to her, Kathryn was about to explain the dizzy spells, but then a voice from behind her spoke.

"She's fighting it."

The room began to spin again, and this time a wave of nausea swept over Kathryn, and she actually brought her free hand to her mouth, hoping she wasn't about to have a real issue. She had to let go of Maddie's hand, placing it instead on her daughter's shoulder to try and steady herself. What was wrong with her?

"Kathryn, look at me."

The voice was smooth as velvet, and she felt his heavy hands on her shoulders. He must be panicking by now with the way she was acting. She managed to lift her head, wanting to assure him she was fine. He leaned in, taking her completely by surprise with a hard kiss, but she happily returned it, wrapping her arms around him.

But it didn't feel right. The way his tongue moved in her mouth, the hard, well defined muscles her hands caressed, his hand encircling her neck possessively. She moved back to break the contact, but he wrapped his arm completely around her, hauling her body against his, trapping her there. His mouth continued to possess hers and the hand around her neck allowed her no retreat.

Then suddenly, he swore and pulled away from her. Madelyn had kicked him in the shin. "You're not Daddy!"

Kathryn didn't understand. She fully agreed with her daughter, but she could still see Chakotay's features in front of her. And then he raised a hand and backhanded Maddie across the face, sending her crashing to the floor.

"No!" Kathryn launched herself at him, knocking him back several steps in the process. Even as she tried to strike him, her vision made the room spin, and he easily caught her flailing hands. Taking a page from her daughter's book, Kathryn lashed out with her foot, landing a glancing blow only. The man holding her laughed and easily pushed her away, down on the floor. She slid across the cool tile, winding up almost on top of Maddie. Immediately Kathryn turned, gathering her legs beneath her and looked up, readying herself to charge again, but found herself face to face with the muzzle of a weapon. Freezing her movements, her gaze tracked upwards until she saw the person holding the weapon, and for the first time she truly laid eyes on the man she assumed was her new captor.

He did have dark hair, and the coloring of his clothing matched what Kathryn thought she'd been seeing, but the rest was different. Small ridges lined the sides of his face, and intricate raised markings, darker than the rest of his skin ran the length of his arms. Arms that were bare from the shoulder down with very well defined musculature. Remembering how his body had felt under her hands, Kathryn knew the rest of him was just as solid. Even as she felt Maddie tuck in behind her, Kathryn met his eyes, eyes that were a cold cobalt color, and she managed to ground out, "Who are you?"

He laughed easily at the growl in her voice, and for the first time, she also heard the reaction of others in the hall as they nervously laughed with him. Ignoring her question, he looked over his shoulder at Milo. "You certainly weren't lying this time. This one has the demon in her." He turned his attention back to Kathryn and wiped his thumb across his lower lip and chin. "I _like_ her."

"Do you want me to reestablish the connection, sire?" A small waif of a figure seemed to float out from behind him. Kathryn frowned and looked again to Stefan. This waif must've been the one with the hand on her back. She was no bigger than Maddie, and she looked as though a strong wind could knock her over.

"No, I think we've had enough fun for now," the man whose name Kathryn still didn't know addressed the waif, "but why was she acting like that? Like she was sick?"

"Her mind was harder to hold, sire. It is unlike the previous ones. Different." The waif's voice sounded like chimes.

He seemed to give a lot of weight to the waif's words. "Will it get better with time?"

"Unknown, sire."

Kathryn listened intently to the exchange, hating that she had been duped so easily. It gave her some hope though that apparently she wasn't easy to control, but she'd have to keep an eye out for the waif. And dizzy spells. Apparently those weren't normal either, and she filed that knowledge away, hoping she'd be able to make use of it.

"Very well. You may go." He turned towards Milo. "You may go as well. I'll keep this one."

Milo half bowed and glanced quickly in Kathryn's direction. She couldn't decide if his look was pitying or condescending. Sheila's was easier to interpret. She was smiling. And then the three of them were gone, and Kathryn was still facing the business end of a weapon.

"And you." He gestured with the weapon for Kathryn to rise. She did, keeping Maddie tucked behind her as much as possible. "The little one should know that striking the king is an offense punishable by death. Because her actions allowed me to see your true spirit, I will allow it to go unpunished _this_ time."

Biting back the reply she really wanted to say, Kathryn managed a simple, "Thank you." She couldn't quite bring herself to say sire, but she did think she should try diplomacy first. "My name is Kathryn Janeway. I am a Starfleet admiral with the United Federation of Planets. I don't know what Milo may have told you, but my daughter and I were brought here against our will."

A smattering of laughter broke out after her words. The man in front of her shrugged. "I know of no…Starfleet, but I have no doubt you were brought here against your will." More laughter followed his words. "It matters not." Kathryn started to retort but he spoke over her. "I have other matters to attend to. Your paltry concerns are irrelevant to me." He snapped his fingers and four armored guards stepped to his side. "Take the little one down to the kitchens. She can stay with the dogs."

"Wait! No!" Kathryn immediately began backing away, keeping herself in front of Madelyn. She sized up the situation in a single glance. The guards were wearing protective plating over their shoulders and down their torsos, and two of them had hand held weapons holstered on their belts. All four men advanced on her from different angles. She tried desperately to stay between them and Madelyn, but the space of the hall worked against her. Even as she managed to keep two of them at bay, the other two came behind her, snatching Madelyn.

"Mama-" A strong hand clamped over Madelyn's mouth, cutting off her cries even as she continued to struggle. Kathryn turned in time to see one of the guards lift her daughter kicking and screaming. Strong arms wrapped around Kathryn from behind before she could take two steps. Slamming her head backwards, she only managed to hit the much taller guard's heavily armored shoulder, which was more painful for her than him. And Maddie was still being carried even further away.

Kathryn screamed in futility and pounded her heels against the guard's unprotected shins, eliciting a grunt of pain, but the hold around her middle only tightened, pinching her arms against her sides. "Maddie! I'll come for you!" She was still yelling when the guard carrying Maddie exited through a door, closing it behind him.

"Will someone please dose her, already? She's giving me a headache."

"It's about time." When she heard the guard holding her mumble, the king's words filtered through Kathryn's agonized haze. She tore her gaze away from the closed door and saw one of the other guards open a pouch on his belt and withdraw a syringe filled with a pale green liquid. It reminded her of something she might've seen in Chaotica's lab, and she knew she didn't want it anywhere near her.

But it was futile. No matter how many courses in self defense she'd taken, one woman couldn't fend off three armored men when they already had her partially restrained. The long needle sank into the soft tissues of her neck, and her cry of pain ended in a whimper as she sank into oblivion.

* * *

:)


	24. Chapter 23

Ch. 23

"Looks like the ship runs on a skeleton crew. I'm only reading eighteen life signs," Harry reported as the small bridge crew of the _Pendragon_ collectively looked at Milo's ship up close for the first time.

"Are any of those life signs human?" Chakotay asked.

"Two…I think," Harry hesitated, "I can't be sure. This scanner is picking up several different species. More species than life signs."

"Eighteen?" Chakotay looked over at B'Elanna seated at the engineering console. "We can handle eighteen. Have the teams meet me in the transporter room. Harry, you have the ship."

"Aye, Captain."

Chakotay, B'Elanna, Tuvok, and Tom all moved as one, making their way to the transporter room while Sam Wildman stayed on the bridge with Harry. Teams of five had already been decided, and the crew divided up. Most of the crew were former Voyagers, currently on leave, but Sveta had also joined them as well as a few other former Maquis members she had recruited. As they rounded the corner, Chakotay saw Ayala, Fitzpatrick, and a Maquis he didn't know already waiting for them. Within minutes the corridor was filled with everyone that was going over to the other ship, leaving a skeleton crew on the _Pendragon_.

Chakotay nodded. "We go over there and secure the ship. Stun anyone who resists and then restrain them. Our priority is to find Kathryn and Madelyn. If they're no longer on the ship, we need to find out where they were taken. Lethal measures are _not_ authorized. Is everyone clear on that?" He received nods and grunts of acknowledgment. "We're also looking for Milo Cyronious. You find him, you page me and hold him until I get to your position. One last thing, this is not an officially sanctioned Starfleet mission. Any one of you can back out now, no questions asked."

No one moved. Sveta snorted. "Come on, Chakotay. Let's get this show on the road."

Chakotay, B'Elanna, and Tom materialized on the bridge of Milo's ship. The three crewmen manning it were surprised to see them. The automated warning Chakotay had decided to have broadcast to the ship about a problem in the surrounding space affecting warp drive had been enough to slow the ship down. Given Milo's contacts, the small crew had never expected the nearby Starfleet ship to initiate a guerilla type boarding, though. Milo's captain reached for a weapon, and Chakotay immediately stunned the man. Letting the crewmen pick up their stunned captain, Tom herded all four of them to a single corner of the bridge.

"B'Elanna?" Chakotay asked as his old friend slid in behind one of the many consoles, her fingers racing across the board.

"Accessing now…systems, logs, got it: manifests." She scrolled through data, shaking her head. "This lists eighteen people on the ship, Chakotay, but they're listed by position not name."

"Is Kathryn Janeway on this ship?" Tom asked the crewmen now huddled on the floor.

"Who?" one of them managed to ask.

"Kathryn. Janeway," Tom reiterated. "Human woman. Red hair. A glare that makes you wish you were dead. Had a child with her."

The captain shook his head slowly, the effects of the stun slowly wearing off. "We don't know any of the passengers. We just fly and maintain the ship."

"Yeah right, you're completely innocent," Tom quipped, looking back to B'Elanna. "Can you get a force field around these guys?"

"Done," she said as the shield of light shimmered into place around the four humanoids.

"Ayala to Chakotay." Tom and B'Elanna both looked to Chakotay as they all three heard weapons fire over the now open comm. line. "We've got resistance on the third deck, trying to pin them back towards the aft section."

"I'm on my way," Chakotay responded, turning for the small lift at the corner of the bridge. "Tom, stay with B'Elanna. Let me know when you find something."

Chakotay moved quickly down the corridor of the third deck. Only Ayala had called him, which meant the other teams weren't having any problems. He hoped. As he neared the middle of the ship, he could hear weapons fire being exchanged, and he began to move more cautiously. Peering around the corner, he could just make out McKenzie lying on the floor with a bleeding shoulder wound.

"Chakotay to Kim, lock onto McKenzie and beam him to sickbay."

After the man shimmered into blue light, Chakotay was able to move forward again finally reaching Ayala's side. "What've we got?"

Phaser fire sheared past their doorway, Mike fired back before answering. "One guy. Don't know what he is. I think there is a woman with him, too. She moved fast, couldn't tell much about her."

"Where's Fitzpatrick?" Chakotay asked, sneaking a quick look past Ayala.

"There were three to start with," Ayala explained, slightly out of breath, "We got the other one right off, but Fitzy got tagged, too. I had them both beamed back to our ship. I didn't want to lose track of these two."

Chakotay nodded. They had a small brig on the _Pendragon_, might as well make the best use of it. "I sent McKenzie back, too." Another blast hit the bulkhead next to them, showering them with sparks. "Let's do this. You go high; I'll go low. On three."

The two of them slipped out of their hiding spot in a maneuver they hadn't used in years. Weapon's fire seared past Chakotay's ear before he hit the deck. Ayala managed to hit their unknown assailant in the shoulder, staggering him backwards, giving Chakotay the space to fire his own blast, hitting the man in the chest. The large alien hit the bulkhead and slumped mercifully to the floor, his weapon slipping from his hand.

Ayala advanced slowly, keeping his weapon trained on the fallen man. Kicking the weapon away from the unconscious man, he remarked over his shoulder to Chakotay, "He looks like he could be part Klingon."

"Now we just need to find the woman," Chakotay said, reaching for his comm. badge. He needed to find out if anyone else was having this much trouble. A rush of movement caught his eye. "Mike, look-"

A fast moving whirl of blue moved in, striking Ayala in the chest, slamming him backwards into Chakotay. Falling against the wall, both men managed to catch themselves before falling all the way to the deck. Ayala immediately had his hands up, defending himself against the whirling dervish in front of him. Chakotay tried to put space between him and the combatants so he could stun who or whatever it was that was attacking them, but he felt a searing pain in his wrist and saw his phaser go flying down the hall. Another blow caught him in the ribs, and he was slammed against the opposite bulkhead. Staggering upwards, he watched Mike block another strike before being caught on the chin with what looked like a high kick. Ayala's head snapped back, and he slumped to the floor unconscious.

The attacker finally paused and turned towards Chakotay. He could see now that it was a woman. A very small woman with blue hair and skin that almost seemed to shimmer. She smiled a mouthful of teeth at him and advanced slowly towards him.

Chakotay backed up. "You must be Sheila."

Surprisingly, she stopped, and the smile disappeared. "How do you know my name?"

Her voice was raspy, and Chakotay straightened, preparing himself for her next assault. "Powell sends his regards."

A growl more menacing than he'd ever heard from B'Elanna issued from the woman's throat, and Chakotay hoped his ancestors would give him strength. She moved, and he braced himself for the inevitable. Then her growl turned into a mewl, and she slumped forwards to the floor. Chakotay stared, momentarily stunned.

"When are you going to learn, Chakotay?" Sveta asked, emerging from the opposite direction, a phaser in hand leveled at the collapsed woman. "Always carry more than one weapon."

Chakotay rubbed his sore wrist where he could now easily make out a distinct boot imprint forming. "Thanks Sveta." He stared down at the woman on the floor. She moaned, and he recoiled quickly as another phaser blast from Sveta hit her again.

"No point in taking chances." Sveta shrugged, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Reminded strongly of why Sveta had led her own cell, Chakotay crossed over to check on Mike. "He's out for the count." He tapped his comm. badge. "Chakotay to Harry. Lock onto Ayala and beam him over to sickbay. Then lock onto the other two unconscious lifesigns in my vicinity and beam them straight into the brig."

"No problem," Harry answered, and Ayala disappeared in the transporter beam. "We are getting kind of full in the brig, though."

"Has anyone else called?"

"No, just your three."

"Good then maybe that will be all." He closed the line and then tapped it again hailing Tuvok. "Report."

"We have located and secured all personnel but one on decks four and five. The last life sign we are tracking has barricaded himself in quarters. I believe it is Cyronius." Tuvok paused. "I have detected no signs of the Admiral or Madelyn."

Chakotay felt his blood boil. "I haven't either. Decks one and three are secure."

"Deck two, as well," Sveta contributed.

"I will contact you when we have apprehended Cyronius."

"Good hunting," Chakotay said, closing the line again.

"B'Elanna to Chakotay."

"Go ahead."

"They're using ghost records, Chakotay. I can't even determine who is who on this ship, much less where they've actually been. Given time, I could figure it out-"

"We don't have time, B'Elanna."

"I know, but without some sort of encryption key…"

Chakotay sighed. "What about Kathryn? Any references to her?"

"Only one. Just a program file name. Janeway Epsilon Three."

Tom's voice joined B'Elanna's on the line. "I think it's a holoprogram, Chakotay."

"There are holosuites on deck two," Sveta said.

"B'Elanna, send the program there and we'll take a look at it." He closed the line again, and he and Sveta made their way back up the corridor. As they neared the doors, B'Elanna hailed him again.

"The program was designed to start where it left off," she explained. "Do you want to see the whole thing?"

"How long will that take?"

There was a beat of silence before Tom answered him. "Looks like it runs for about an hour."

"No, we don't have that kind of time. Just load it and Sveta and I will see what we've got."

The lights lit up on the panel outside the holosuite doors, indicating the program had started. Chakotay moved forward, and the doors slid open to reveal dark metal stairs in front of him partially obscured by a cloud of steam paused in the programming. He started down the stairs, feeling and hearing Sveta behind him. He cleared the stationary burst of steam and was able to see his surroundings for the first time. And what he saw nearly killed him.

Kathryn.

A bruised and bloodied Kathryn, lying on the grated metal floor, staring up at an unseen assailant, her face twisted in a grimace of pain.

"Computer," Sveta's voice carried a dark tone to it that Chakotay hadn't heard in a long time, "include in program all lifesigns actively participating when this program was saved."

Three male forms shimmered into existence near Kathryn. One that Chakotay had just seen shooting at him in the corridor. Another one had his booted foot planted on Kathryn's chest, holding her down. Chakotay had only seen the man's picture before. He'd thought at the time that he couldn't possibly hate the man any more than he had in that first moment, but now he knew better. The name emanated from his chest in a deep growl. "Milo Cyronius."

* * *

_  
If you are feeling a little lost by the last few paragraphs, go and read ch. 11. ;)_


	25. Chapter 24

Ch.24

There were moments when she thought she was dreaming. And then there were those when she was sure she wasn't. This particular moment, Kathryn didn't feel sure about anything. And oddly enough, that was okay. Something in the back of her mind told her she should give a damn, that she should be jumping up to go do…something, but she just couldn't concentrate long enough to pin down what that 'something' was.

"So this is your latest acquisition?"

"Yes, she is powerful."

"Really? She doesn't look it."

"Well no, not at the moment, but you should've seen the display she put on earlier."

Fingers snapped in front of Kathryn's face, and she flinched. Slowly looking up, she saw him: King Odaro. Or at least that was the name she'd heard many times over the past few hours. A flame of hatred burned bright in her mind for a brief moment at the thought of him, but then she couldn't remember why and it didn't seem quite so important. And he slipped out of focus.

"Did you see that?"

"Yes," the voice said in quiet amazement, "I don't know that I've ever seen such pure contempt like that leveled at you before." A small chuckle. "At least not without the person being put to death soon, thereafter." The owner of the second voice knelt in front of her. "And you say she's under a full dose?"

"Yes, she slept for two ceros at first."

"Only two?" he looked over his shoulder with disbelief. "And she's already this…respondent?"

Turning back to Kathryn, he too flashed his fingers in front of her face, snapping at her. She didn't like it and grabbed his wrist, twisting the hand away from her. Laughter rang out and then she felt her fingers being pried open. She didn't resist, didn't even remember really why she had reacted so strongly. But the man in front of her, rubbing at his wrist with his opposite hand, backed away from her.

"Impressive."

"I told you." The figures walked away at that point discussing some matter of land, and Kathryn slowly lowered her hand back to her side.

And then there were more people. Some stayed for a while, some didn't. Or at least she didn't notice when they left. The king was there more often than not. Several times, Kathryn felt as though she was the subject of scrutiny.

"Was she worth the price you paid?"

"I'm sure she will be."

A guffaw of laughter. "I guess you'll find out tonight."

"Unfortunately, no. The queen will be in chambers this evening."

"That's a shame."

Kathryn was fairly sure by the way the two men leered at her as they talked that she was the subject of discussion. She just couldn't remember why.

The dizzy spells were unpredictable always hitting her quickly and without warning. Sometimes she felt nauseous from them and sometimes they made her entire body feel like it was simply floating. Content. Naturally, she preferred the non-sickening versions.

Chakotay came and went, as well. That agitated her more than anything else. What was he doing? Why did he keep leaving her? Was Maddie with him? She couldn't remember why, but she knew he needed to find their daughter because she couldn't. If only she could remember to ask him… The last time he stayed for several hours, but feeling a chill she'd looked for him only to find he was once again…gone. Her senses crystallized at that moment, taking in the darkened hall, the hard steps of the dais on which she lay, the presence of guards, and then the worst case of nausea she'd felt yet hit her. The room spun, tilting dangerously on its axis, bile rose in her throat, and she curled instinctively into a ball as she tried to hold on.

Feeling something flit against her face, Kathryn managed to pry open her eyes. The waif girl from before was stumbling down the steps away from her. A guard stepped forward to assist her. Kathryn watched, breathing deep against the nausea, as the two slowly made their way out of the darkened hall. For the first time since the morning she was able to think clearly despite the sick feeling washing over her. The waif's presence had made her sick before. So did that explain the nausea? Probably. Did it explain Chakotay's disappearing act, as well?

Kathryn shifted slightly, feeling the cold stone steps beneath her. If Chakotay had really been here, she wouldn't still be curled into a ball of pain on the floor. He would've made sure she was in the doctor's care before he disappeared. He wouldn't have left her here, although she was surprised to find herself still in the hall.

Judging by the darkened conditions, she assumed night had fallen, and it seemed that she and a company of guards were the only ones present. An entire day had passed while she'd slipped in and out of awareness. That was disturbing. If Chakotay had really been nothing more than a hallucination, that meant Madelyn had been on her own this whole time. The thought of Maddie having to fend for herself for all that time did nothing to help her slowly abating nausea. Kathryn gradually rolled over onto her back. She shivered in the cool night air and wondered if Maddie was cold too. The stairs were extremely uncomfortable, but getting up was too daunting of a proposition at the moment. She couldn't even remember why she thought she had to. Concentrating on the high ceiling, she didn't realize the fog that had lain thick over her mind all day was once again reasserting itself.

* * *

Bright sunlight was shining right in her eyes, and Kathryn blinked rapidly, throwing a hand up in front of her face. The last thing she remembered was staring up at the ceiling, hoping Maddie was warm, and now it was morning. She moved, wanting to sit up, and was immediately reminded by her body that she was no longer a cadet. The stone surface she'd slept on was very unforgiving, as her back and hips sharply reminded her.

Someone very near her cleared his throat and Kathryn lowered her hand. A man in white robes was standing over her, frowning. "Are you capable of standing?"

"Yes," she answered, forcing herself not to grimace as she slowly got to her feet.

"Very good." He nodded. "You will come with me."

Clearing her throat, she asked, "Where are we going? And where is my daughter?"

He didn't acknowledge her questions, just turned on his heel and began walking away. Kathryn huffed and began walking stiffly after him. She noticed all the guards around her, seemed primed and ready for a fight. Considering the last interaction they'd had with her, she couldn't blame them, but their jittery movements were making her nervous. "Relax, boys, I won't throw any punches if you don't."

One of the younger looking ones actually jumped at the sound of her voice and she slowly raised her hands in supplication. The guard on the right of her smirked at his companion and gestured for her to get moving, the plates covering his shoulders grated against each other at his movement. She couldn't help but wonder if they wore their armor all the time or was it just because of her. Reluctantly, with joints still stiff from the previous night, she began moving towards the side door where the man in robes was impatiently waiting. She could only hope that she would be able to find Maddie soon.

* * *

  
Kathryn paced the small room. She hated waiting. As best she could tell, four or five hours had passed since she'd been led out of the main hall, and apparently the king wanted her present for the afternoon's appointments. Or so she'd been told. No one deemed it necessary to tell her much of anything, but she had managed to find out that much. And, thankfully, she'd been able to see Maddie.

_The bathhouse had left Kathryn feeling slimy. That had been the first place she'd been taken, and she'd been thrilled to find this kingdom did at least have the amenity of indoor plumbing. After that discovery, she'd been led to a different part of the same bathhouse where two women had silently waited on her, per the king's order. She was to bathe and dress in their custom, but after having been shown the room with the bath, Kathryn had at least been given the dignity of cleansing herself. Another small thing for which she'd been thankful. The oily scented liquid they used for bathing left a lot to be desired, and Kathryn thought to herself that if she ever made it out of this she'd never have dry skin again. The women had returned to her side to help her dress, and as it seemed a universal constant she'd been allowed to inspect her reflection. _

_She looked like she was about to attend some ancient Greek festival. The clothing was an odd mix between revealing and ceremonial. It was gathered at her right shoulder and her left hip with the pleated material sweeping tightly across her chest, but leaving a good portion of her midriff exposed. Her left shoulder and arm were bare while her right arm was covered all the way down to her fingertips. A loose skirt hung low on her hips and reached all the way to her sandaled feet. Kathryn automatically found herself straightening and consciously tightening her abdominals. She was not at the age where she enjoyed showing off her less than firm middle, however, she was pleased to note that without Milo's continued treatments the color of her skin seemed to be returning to normal. She could even see a few freckles again._

_After the bath, she'd been brought to a dining hall with an extraordinarily long table. Taking the seat indicated, while trying to ignore the contingent of guards following her every move, she'd been served a hollowed out bread bowl with a hearty stew filling it. The spice of the first few bites had made her eyes water, but after that it had become palatable. As she was finishing, the man in robes appeared again at her side. So far he'd come and gone, leading her from one place to the next, never answering her questions and never staying long, unlike the guards who were like unwanted shadows. She was thankful they'd at least stayed outside the bathhouse. _

_"Because you have cooperated, you will now be taken to see your young," he announced._

_It had taken a lot of effort not to jump out of the chair and hug the man at his proclamation. Instead she rose calmly and followed him. They walked through an open air hall, and Kathryn managed to see a glimpse of trees and foliage before they entered yet another part of the vast building that she could only think of as a castle. The smells of spices and cooking meat assaulted her, and she had to crinkle her nose to keep from sneezing. The man in robes was talking to a rather robust woman that seemed to be sizing Kathryn up, before she nodded and motioned with her hand for Kathryn to move further inside. Apparently, this was __**her**__ kitchen._

_"So this one is yours?" the woman asked and Kathryn nodded, barely able to contain the relief that exploded in her chest at seeing Maddie sitting on a stool to the right of the woman, looking for all the world like she belonged there. She was safe._

_"Of course, I'm safe, Mama," Maddie said, jumping up and answering the question that Kathryn hadn't realized she'd said aloud. She hugged her mother tightly around the waist._

_Reveling in that simple knowledge, Kathryn couldn't help but kneel down so she could inspect her daughter for herself. She was a little dirty, but other than that, she appeared fine. "You're okay?"_

_Maddie nodded. "Yes, Mama." She could hear the concern in her mama's voice. It was the same way her voice always sounded rougher after the ship had been attacked. "Kala is teaching me how to cook. She was shocked you never taught me."_

_Kathryn smiled at the ease with which her daughter seemed to adapt. All of those years living on Voyager had left her very resilient. Kathryn glanced at the large woman still eyeing her. "Well, do you think we should tell her I was busy running a starship-"_

_Maddie clapped a hand over her mother's mouth, silencing her. "Shhh, no, Mama. We can't talk about that. The Prime Directive."_

_"What?" Kathryn was shocked. Obviously Milo had traded here before, surely they knew about…_

_But Maddie was shaking her head. "They don't know about space and Earth and all that. I asked, and Kala thought I was making up stories."_

_"Where does she think we come from?" Kathryn asked but was disappointed when her daughter simply shrugged. Knowing her time was limited, she pushed past the million questions this revelation had just created in her mind and got back to the business at hand. "Okay, what about you? Are you being treated okay? Were you cold last night?"_

_"Oh no, the dogs were like big furry blankets." Kathryn tried to hold back her distaste at the idea. Luckily, Maddie didn't notice. "Can we get one when we go home?"_

_"Of course," Kathryn agreed, ignoring the pain at the thought of whether or not they'd be going home any time soon. The image of her daughter several years older and still working in this kitchen flashed unbidden through her mind, and she had to stifle a gasp at the thought. _

_"We have to go. You are due in the hall." _

_The man in robes was already at the door, and Kathryn hugged Madelyn tight to her. "Keep doing what you're doing, honey. Be good and remember all the lessons we taught you."_

_"I will, Mama," Maddie whispered back to her. "Daddy will come."_

_"I know." Kathryn reluctantly stood, swallowing hard when she released Maddie. "I love you."_

_"Love you, too."_

_Kathryn nodded and said thank you to the woman named Kala who gave her a gruff nod before returning to her vegetables. She could only hope that meant the woman would continue to look after Maddie. The robed man cleared his throat, and Kathryn fixed her captain's mask in place before walking past him through the doors, making him hurry to get in front of her. _

And now she was once again being presented to the king. She considered the ramifications of what Maddie had told her. This was a primitive culture, not _that_ primitive as she thought of the drugs they'd given her, but not warp capable. How did the Prime Directive now affect her dealings here? Did it? All she was trying to do was survive and protect her daughter. Would she hesitate to use a phaser here or transport out if given the chance? Hell, no. Primitive or not, she and Maddie were in danger here. The king had said something before about demons; she'd be more than willing to make them believe she was the devil incarnate if it helped her escape. Prime Directive be damned.

The doors to the grand hall opened in front of her. At least this time she was fully cognizant of where she was and who she was meeting. This time the meeting would not go the same way as the first. She promised herself that much.

* * *


	26. Chapter 25

Ch. 25

Chakotay paced. The amount of time it was taking Tuvok to arrive with Milo in custody felt like it was stretching out to an eternity. The walkway and scaffolding were not that large. He could only take ten steps or so before running into a staircase. He'd even had to remove two of the holograms just to give himself room. But he'd left two as well. Milo and Kathryn were still visible on the walkway. Milo with his foot holding Kathryn down. Kathryn with a grimace of pain on her blood flecked face. Every time Chakotay turned he saw them. Sveta was there too, standing off to the side, but she was practically invisible to him. He only had eyes for those two central figures. No one else mattered. Nothing else mattered. Kathryn and Milo. His wife and his enemy. Only one knew where the other was.

The door a level above them creaked open and Tuvok appeared pushing a captured Milo through the opening, guiding him down the stairs.

"You people have no idea who you are dealing with…" Milo's ranting voice trailed off as he cleared the small cloud of steam that obscured the stairwell from the rest of the platform. He stuttered to a halt upon seeing the four figures awaiting his arrival.

Sveta saw no discernible reaction from the Vulcan at the scene laid out before him, but the fact that he prodded Milo forward, closer to Chakotay spoke volumes.

"Mister Cyronius informed me on the way here that Admiral Janeway and your daughter are no longer aboard the ship," Tuvok informed them.

Sveta's glance flicked to Chakotay, he didn't seem to register that Tuvok had even spoken. His dark eyes were focused solely on Milo, who for the moment at least seemed to grasp the inherent danger he was facing. Sweat beaded and rolled down his pasty white face, his hands twitched nervously by his side, and his eyes continually searched the room, looking anywhere but at the man in front of him.

"I…I know what this must look like…" Milo stammered, still not quite meeting Chakotay's gaze, "but I didn't hurt her."

A twitch of Chakotay's cheek was the only indication he heard Milo. His voice was flat, almost emotionless if one didn't know better. "Where is my wife?"

Milo hesitated, his eyes again flickering over the holographic figures behind Chakotay. "I…heh…uh she, she isn't here."

With an explosion of force and a modicum of movement, Chakotay's elbow smashed into Milo's face, dropping him to the floor. Tuvok took a step back, letting the man fall. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Milo yelled in pain as he rocked back onto his heels, his hands cupping his face. "You son-of-a-bitch…you broke my nose."

Chakotay squatted down far enough so that he was eye level with Milo. "Tell me where my wife is."

A sobbing laugh bubbled out of Milo as he removed his hands from his face, revealing his profusely bleeding nose. "You are done. I'm going to have your balls for this." He laughed again and spat blood on the floor. "You have no idea-"

He yelled again as Chakotay's fist struck him in the face, crunching further into the broken cartilage and knocking the man backwards. Milo rolled onto his side, cupping his face in anguish.

"What did you do with my wife and child?" He asked again, but Milo didn't answer. Chakotay pursed his lips before nodding to himself. He stood and retreated a few steps from the sobbing man on the floor.

Sveta heard metal scraping against metal and saw Chakotay lift the round metal bar that lay on the floor next to the holographic representation of his wife. His eyes barely even strayed to look at her. Sveta crossed her arms over her chest. She truly thought she'd put these days behind her. Days of uncomfortable situations where you worry about how far over the line you can go before you become like your enemy. But even in those days, she'd never seen Chakotay this cold. This determined. It bothered her immensely that it had come to this, but she also knew better than to try and stop him.

Tuvok apparently still felt the need. "Captain, I do not believe Admiral Janeway would approve what you are about to do."

"Stay out of this, Tuvok," he said curtly, walking back to Milo's side. Using his boot, he pushed the whimpering, overweight man on his back and held him there mirroring what Milo had done to Kathryn. Chakotay hefted the bar in his hand high enough that Milo could see it clearly. "Where did you take Kathryn Janeway?"

"Please…please don't," Milo stammered. From his position on the floor he beseeched Sveta and Tuvok. "You can't let him do this."

Sveta shrugged, pretending indifference to the man's plight. She had no feelings for Milo, but it pained her to see Chakotay take this path.

Tuvok's eyes never left Chakotay as he addressed the man on the floor. "The Captain's actions are his own, Mister Cyronius. I suggest you answer his question."

"Tell me where she is."

Milo's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, but he said nothing. Sveta closed her eyes when Chakotay gave another small shrug and raised the bar higher. She knew what he was going to do with it, but she didn't want to watch. She heard the bar as it whistled through the air, striking downwards towards its victim. The resulting clang as it struck the metal stairs instead of Milo's soft body took her by surprise and made her jump.

Sveta opened her eyes to see Milo gaping at the bar that had landed only centimeters away from his face. He looked as surprised as she felt. Glancing upwards, Sveta caught Chakotay staring at her. His eyes were so full of pain. And she understood. This was destroying him. The need to hate. The need to hurt. Everything he'd worked so hard to put behind him. He had let it consume him earlier at Milo's house in the heat of the moment, and she was glad she hadn't been witness to it. But this time was different. He'd had time to think about it this time. He'd had time to plan his actions. If he let his anger consume him now, it would be a conscious decision to do so, and she had no doubt he'd get the information he so desperately needed.

But Tuvok had been right.

Kathryn wouldn't want him to do this.

And so he was looking to her to understand. Not approve. Never that. But to understand that he could not just sit and do nothing. His wife. His child. They'd been taken from him. And time was not on their side. They needed the information now, before it was too late. If it wasn't already.

Swallowing tightly, Sveta managed to give him a small nod. She did understand. So much so that she moved forward and took the bar from his unresisting hand.

"Go wait for me in the corridor," she whispered to him, curling her fingers tight around the bar.

Chakotay's chest was heaving and pained confusion crossed his features. "Sveta?"

"Let me protect you, brother," she said, and pushed him towards the stairs, motioning for Tuvok to join him. Looking down at Milo, she said, "I'll only be a few minutes."

* * *


	27. Chapter 26

Ch. 26

Kathryn strode confidently down the middle of the large hall. She kept her chin up and her eyes on her target, which was the complete opposite of yesterday when she could barely see anything and had been doing her damndest not to trip. She had no armed escort or daughter in tow this time. The king, too, seemed to be taking this meeting differently as he sat waiting on his throne, no cheap parlor tricks or magical appearances this time.

Approaching the dais, Kathryn could only recall bits and pieces of yesterday. The initial appearance was branded solidly in her memory, but everything after the drugging came in flashes. There were two advisors standing to the right of the king; only one of them looked familiar to her. All of the guards posted and the entourage of people milling around struck chords of similarity in her mind, but she couldn't have pinpointed a single detail about any of them if her life depended on it. Which she sincerely hoped it didn't.

She stopped near the foot of the dais and eyed the king. They both waited for the other to speak first, and Kathryn took the opportunity to study him. Unsurprisingly, he exuded arrogance and masculinity and everything about his appearance was meant to enhance that affect. The dark boots and pants that appeared almost militaristic in nature coupled with another sleeveless shirt showing off his muscled arms. The raised marks stood out brightly on his skin as his hands rolled a jeweled dagger between them.

"Feeling better today?" he asked, a cocky smile on his face. The sycophantic laughter of his entourage predictably followed his comment.

"Yes, thank you," Kathryn replied tightly.

"That's good. I'd hate to have you drooling on our guests later." He frowned for a second. "What did you say your name was?"

"Admiral Kathryn Janeway." His question actually surprised her, and she had to wonder if he was feigning ignorance. "I demand to know why I've been brought here against my will."

"That's really your name?" He tapped the knife blade against his knee. "That's way too long. I'll have to come up with something better. Something more palatable."

"Only if you don't expect a response," she quipped, causing a stir from his aides.

Standing abruptly, the king descended the few steps towards her, waving off the guard that moved to accompany him. His eyes raked over her, slowly taking in every aspect of her. "I wonder if you truly are one of our demons. Your hair color certainly matches our demon of fire, but your eyes could easily be those of a sea spirit. Are you god or are you mortal?" he mused, circling behind her. "I can't wait to find out."

The last remark was said quietly in her ear, his hot breath brushing across her cheek as he leaned close to her. She refused to turn around to speak to him, knowing that's what he wanted her to do. "Why have you brought me here?"

One of his large hands wrapped slowly around her neck from behind, his fingers covering the entire expanse of skin, and she could feel the heat of his body against her back. He nuzzled her hair and pulled her back against him. She resisted the urge to throw an elbow back; she could tell he was expecting it. He was trying to goad a reaction from her.

"I was told," he said, drawing out his words, "that you were the strongest warrior of your kind." His thumb moved back and forth along her jaw as he spoke. "I was told that you had done great things unlike any other." She felt the tip of the knife touch her bare shoulder. "I was told you are a hero." He trailed the knife all the way down her arm. "Are these things true?"

"I did my duty," she hissed, feeling his fingers squeeze tighter on her throat as she spoke.

"Hmmm…you see the reason I ask is because if I was lied to, I'd have to kill you." He drew the blade across her exposed middle. "And I'd have to do it in such a way that death itself would be a release from the punishment of dying." The knife angled out from her, poised to drive straight through her. "Lying to the king is a most heinous act. One of which merits punishment not only against you, but against your progeny, as well." He spun Kathryn around and reasserted his chokehold, forcing her to look up at him. "So tell me, _Ad-miral_, are you a hero to your people?"

She hesitated, glaring at him. "Yes."

He stared into her eyes for several moments. "I believe you, and yet you resent this title. Why?"

"What do you want from me?" she growled, ignoring his question.

This time a smile crept across his face, and his eyes once again traveled the length of her body. "What do I want from you?" he mused. "Hmmm…so many things." He looked past her shoulder and gave a quick nod.

And then she could see what he had in mind. It was an assault of images. His hands on her body. Stroking over her breasts, moving further downwards, his fingers spread wide covering her entire belly. Her body framed by dark satin sheets, writhing underneath him. Her face twisted in an expression of sensual delight. His head moving lower on her body, her hands tangled in his hair. Raised marks on her skin, designs matching his. Her standing beside his throne, her belly swollen with child.

"No!" With an extreme force of will, she tore herself away from his grasp, away from the images. She only managed to stumble a step or two away from him, and she heard his growl of frustration. Kathryn's head was pounding as though she'd gone too long without oxygen, and then he was on her again.

She put a hand up, a single weak protest to ward him off. He caught and twisted it behind her back, the motion pushing her body further against his. The movement was abrupt, making her head spin, and Kathryn opened her eyes in time to see the lines of Chakotay's tattoo as the dark head of hair slipped past her and began raining hot kisses across her bare shoulder, traveling slowly up her neck, moving along her jaw. Was it really him? She sucked in a deep breath as he knowingly hit all the spots that made her weak. He knew her so well, it had to be him. She wanted it to be him. Needed it to be him. Needed to touch him. But he still held her hand trapped behind her back. She tugged at his grip, knowing he'd let her go, knowing that she loved to trace her fingers along the dark lines of ink that adorned his face. But his grip only tightened and his mouth was on hers. Hard and insistent. Wrong.

"NO!" Kathryn's body and mind screamed.

A cry of pain.

A man swearing.

And Kathryn found herself on the floor again. Alone. Her head spinning.

"I thought you said you could do this!" The king was raging at someone near the dais. "Can you control her or not?"

The melodic voice of bells sounded scared. "I just need more time. She is not like any other I've had before."

"Sire, please," another voice joined the fray, "she's already shown considerable improvement. Physical contact wasn't even necessary this time."

"I _will_ have her! And when I do, I want her willing and eager," the king thundered. "I do not want to have to worry about her putting a blade through my neck during the night!"

"Of course not, sire. The imp will be able to control her," the male voice soothed. "She just needs a little more time."

"I have already waited for her!" the king raged, and a goblet crashed against the far wall, scattering people as its contents stained the stones. He turned on his heel, fuming, watching as Kathryn slowly regained her feet. His voice was a low growl. "How much more time does the imp need?"

"One more night, your majesty, please."

The waif's plea sent chills through Kathryn, but the idea of what she faced hardened her as well. "It doesn't matter how many nights you have," her voice surprised everyone in the room, "I will _never_ come to you willingly, and you will _never_ be safe around me…with or without a blade."

There were several surprised gasps in the room, and all eyes were riveted on the king. His hard eyes were on Kathryn; the look he gave her could only be called predatory. Pointing at the waif, his voice was menacing. "You have one more night. Don't disappoint me."

* * *


	28. Chapter 27

Ch. 27

Chakotay strode into the ready room and threw the PADD he was carrying onto the desk. The PADD contained all the information Milo had concerning a certain planet and its king. Planting his palms on the surface of the desk, Chakotay dropped his chin to his chest. The Altair system. For the first time since they'd left Earth, they actually had a destination plotted. Specific coordinates for where Kathryn had been taken. Names, times, dates, and information concerning the planet's culture and level of civilization. Every bit of information they'd need to find Kathryn and Madelyn on the planet and what force they'd need to use to rescue them. He sighed.

Sveta always had been thorough when it came to interrogations.

_For fifteen minutes, Chakotay had paced the corridor outside the holosuite. What had he done? What was he doing? But that was the problem. __**He**__ wasn't doing anything. Sveta was. Sveta was getting the information they needed. Not him. Sveta was giving up her long sought peace to obtain information for him. It was wrong…and yet, he needed so badly for her to succeed. Twice, he moved towards the doors to join her in the holosuite, and twice, he stopped himself short of entering. Why? Was he afraid that he'd stop her before she found out the location of his wife and child? Or was he afraid he'd help her? He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so furious at any one person than he had been at seeing Milo holding Kathryn down on the ground. The pain etched on her face in that frozen moment of time had spoken volumes…volumes that seared open his soul. That part of his soul that he thought had long been healed. But did the end result really justify the means used to obtain that information? Did it ever? _

_Did he care? _

_He didn't. Not when it meant saving his wife and daughter. He could live with blackening his soul some if it meant finding them. He could live with that; he couldn't live without them. Coming to a decision, he once again changed the direction his feet were headed and strode towards the doors of the holosuite only to have them slide open before he got close enough to trigger them himself. Sveta emerged. Her eyes were flat, her voice emotionless. A sheen of sweat dotted her brow, and he could see the muscles in her arm tremble slightly, but she gave Chakotay an access code for a file in the ship's computer containing all of Milo's information, including coordinates for where Kathryn and Madelyn had been taken. _

_He quickly relayed the code to B'Elanna, instructing her to open the file and start digging. As he spoke, Tuvok had tried to move past Sveta and into the holosuite. She'd stopped him. Milo wasn't in there. She'd already had him beamed to the sickbay on the Pendragon. She offered no apology and had no chagrin when she informed Chakotay that he would probably hear from a very irate doctor. _

_"Are you okay?" he asked._

_"Of course," she replied tightly._

_Gone was the lively woman he'd had coffee with earlier that month. Instead the hardened, soul weary woman that had recruited him into the Maquis stood before him again. He reached a hand out to her shoulder, and she stepped away, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't."_

_She wanted no comfort. At least not from him. He nodded. "I'm sorry."_

_Sveta shrugged indifferently. "You can save your family now. That's more than I was ever able to give you before."_

_"Thank you." _

Even at the moment he'd uttered them, those two words had seemed so completely inadequate, but it was all he had been able to come up with. Paris had paged him, interrupting the chance to say anything further, and informed him that it would still take another twelve hours to reach the planet. A moon as it turned out. Chakotay had then given the orders for all of their crew to return to the _Pendragon_. Harry and a skeleton team would stay on Milo's ship with Milo and his people locked down in their quarters. Chakotay hated the idea of leaving Milo on his own ship, but the brig on the _Pendragon_ was small, and he wasn't entirely sure they wouldn't still have need of it later. Seven had volunteered to remain with Harry. She'd lock out all the systems with her own Borg encryptions and be able to monitor anyone attempting to break them. Chakotay had agreed.

Sveta had surprised him when she'd stated that she'd be hitching a ride with Harry. She'd been cryptic about it, and he'd understood that she had no intention of staying on the ship. She would be gone before he got back and would not be returning with them to Earth. The hard won peace of soul she'd attained over the years since the war was gone. Chakotay knew he wouldn't see her again until she got it back. He'd let her go.

"Doctor to Chakotay."

"Go ahead." He straightened even as he answered the page.

"All of Mister Cyronius's injuries have been healed, and he has been returned to his ship under sedation."

Chakotay closed his eyes. _ Injuries. Healed. _ "Thank you, Doctor."

"We need to talk. This sort of coercion is not-"

"I know, Doctor," he said cutting the hologram off before he could really get going, "we'll discuss it later. Chakotay out." He cut the comm. line off and then opened it again. "Chakotay to Tuvok. Have all the arrangements between the two ships been completed?"

"Aye, Captain. Mister Kim has departed and assumed control of the other vessel."

"Good, then lay in a course and engage at warp nine point five. If B'Elanna has anything extra…use it."

"Aye, sir."

"Chakotay out." He cut off the comm. line and almost immediately felt the engines of the powerful little ship jump to life. Paris must've been sitting with his finger on the button. He glanced at the PADD on his desk, and picked it up, thumbing open the files, and scrolling through the information. He stopped at a name. King Odaro.

Circling his desk, he took a seat and opened the file. It seemed Milo kept extensive notes on his clientele; it probably made his job easier. The notes included everything from the king's preferences to how Milo had made the questionable first contact. The more Chakotay read, the more concerned he became. The king wanted to control and conquer everything. In a mate, he wanted an equal, someone to challenge him. Chakotay almost snorted; Kathryn would certainly meet that criteria. The last note on the king's desires, however, made his blood run cold.

_Odaro only thinks he wants a challenge. In reality, anyone that resists him will be an affront to his nature. He will seek to break them and then kill them. _

_

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_


	29. Chapter 28

Ch. 28

Kathryn stood staring out the window. The stars always looked so different from the surface of a planet. She pulled the light blanket closer around her shoulders and wished she could enjoy the sight of them. Sitting in the chill night air was not the smartest thing she should be doing, but she was thankful that at least tonight she had the option of a bed instead of the hard stairs. Looking again to the bed, she had another reason to be thankful. Maddie slept soundly burrowed into the blankets and being swallowed by the huge mattress.

After the King's failed attempt to seduce her, she'd been relegated to the side of the dais and ordered to watch the afternoon's proceedings quietly. Two guards positioned directly behind her, one brandishing the vile green drug she'd been given before, had been all the encouragement she'd needed to cooperate for the time being. The afternoon had passed in a tediousness rivaling that of her required Protocol and Decorum class at the academy. Odaro's kingdom was definitely working on a feudal system of some sort, and he had spent the afternoon handing out judgments and punishments to his people. Some asked for restitution for minor grievances, others were given harsh punishments for perceived crimes committed. It did not escape notice that the cleaner, wealthier citizens escaped the crueler sentences and received generally whatever it was they'd been requesting.

More than once, Kathryn had been the center of attention as well. The wealthier had praised the king for his ability to capture and hold her while the less fortunate had seemed terrified of her. She supposed the idea of her being a demon had gotten around and some believed it wholeheartedly. That was not the impression she got from the king despite his words. Kathryn felt sure he knew she was not really a demon, but was simply using the idea to his advantage, making others believe she was. If it appeared he'd tamed a demon, how very powerful he must be.

Anytime there had been a break between people seeking his audience, and sometimes even as they were speaking to him, his eyes had been on her. Smoldering dark orbs that had held her possessively. She'd refused to back down from them. Twice she'd thought he was going to storm across the small distance to strike her, but surprising her, he hadn't. He'd simply gone back to addressing the people in front of him. It had also surprised her to not see the waif again that afternoon. Only once had she even felt dizzy and it had been brief, lasting only a moment.

The waif's plea for one more night to work on Kathryn had loomed over her all afternoon, and now she didn't trust falling asleep. The day had ended and the king had left the hall without so much as another word to her. The man in robes had appeared and led her to the bedroom where she now sat. When she'd seen the size of the bed, she'd worried that the king had decided not to wait another night for her after all, but now well into the night she'd begun to relax slightly. The room was simply another pretty cell for her to stew in.

In the first hour, she'd determined that the door was truly the only way out of the room. There was a window, but when she'd peered out of it she'd discovered that it was too high on the castle wall to be considered any kind of escape route. The small water closet, as her grandmother may have called it, was useless as well except for its intended purpose. Kathryn had tentatively taken a seat on the bed, which she found to be stuffed with some sort of feathers, when the door to the room had opened for a second time, and Madelyn had come barreling inside. The woman from the kitchen, Kala, had brought her and their dinner to the room. Kathryn had been so thrilled to hold Maddie, despite the rather pungent aroma that seemed attached to her, that she hadn't even had a chance to say thank you before the cooking woman was gone and the door had been closed again.

The first order of business after that had been to get Maddie cleaned up. Until that point, Kathryn had had no intention of using either of the two shifts she'd found folded neatly on the foot of the bed, but the scent of wet dog mixed with pepper and vegetable clinging to Maddie's clothes and hair was more than she could take. After a simple sink bath, and hanging Maddie's clothes up to dry, they'd sat down to eat the spicy meat stew that Maddie had ensured her mother she'd helped to cook.

Kathryn had been concerned when Maddie didn't seem to have much to say during dinner, but then she'd almost fallen asleep sitting up and still holding her eating utensil. Working in a kitchen all day was harder work than her six year old was accustomed to. Watching her daughter sleep, Kathryn shook her head. It bothered her to no end to think about her daughter's indentured servitude, but all things considered the situation for Maddie could be so much worse.

Shaking off another dizzy spell, Kathryn got to her feet. She'd already nodded off once tonight and dreams of Chakotay doing the most wonderful things to her had begun almost immediately. The dream had been intense and overwhelming, but after only a few minutes, something in her had sensed the wrongness of it. She'd tried to pull back from her dream husband and he'd pursued her. Finally she'd woken herself up by actually tipping over the chair she'd fallen asleep in and landing on the floor. Immediately she'd been nauseous and she knew that the waif had been in her head again. Since then, she hadn't stayed still long enough to sleep. If there was one thing Kathryn Janeway knew how to do, it was to go without sleep.

And so it was well into the night with her constantly pacing the room that she heard the lock on the door slide open. Kathryn was more than a little surprised when the waif slid into the room having barely opened the door more than a fraction. It was the first time Kathryn was actually able to get a good look at the girl. Pale skin, paler hair wearing wispy clothes that exaggerated her lithe body. She moved like a breeze into the room eyeing Kathryn.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, her voice still sounding like chimes.

"Don't need to," Kathryn replied evenly. There wasn't enough space in the room for them to circle each other, but Kathryn certainly felt like she was squaring off with the girl as she slowly closed the distance of the room. They were both sizing each other up and down. Looking for chinks in the armor. Waiting for the opportunity to throw a punch.

The waif looked at Madelyn's sleeping form. "I wonder what her dreams are made of."

"If you try and find out," Kathryn said, keeping her voice low and stepping bodily in front of the bed, "you'll find out what I'm made of."

"But I've already seen what lies in your mind, Kathryn. Tasted your dreams." She retreated several steps, drifting towards the window. "Why aren't you sleeping tonight? I was looking forward to feeling your mate's touch again."

Kathryn fumed but said nothing. She knew a taunt when she heard one.

"You miss him. I know you do. I can help with that." She took a deep breath in and Kathryn actually felt the touch against her mind.

The sensation took her breath away. She could feel his touch on her skin. His mouth leaving a hot trail of kisses down her neck. The back of her knees hit the bed behind her as she staggered back. The physical sensation was enough and she latched onto it, retreating from the Chakotay in her mind. Forcing him out. She was left reeling and she heard a mewl of frustration.

"Why won't you let me help you?"

Kathryn managed to get her eyes open to see the waif advancing towards her. She shot a hand out catching the girl on the chin, knocking her backwards. "Stay the hell away from me."

The imp righted herself but did not move closer. "The King is magnificent. You'll enjoy it like no other experience you've ever had. I can make sure of that."

"No," Kathryn said firmly, regaining her senses. "I'll fight you and him with every breath that I have."

"Then you will get us both killed." The melodic voice was hard now, sounding more like a rusty hinge than chimes. "You can't stay awake forever, Kathryn."

"I can stay awake long enough."

"Long enough for what?"

"Long enough so that the king will see you cannot control me." Kathryn saw the momentary trace of panic flit across her adversary's face. "I don't think he'll kill me. After all, I am one of a kind, but you, you might be expendable. Tell me, are there others with the same talent as you?"

"Stay vigilant, Kathryn, because the second you slip…you'll be mine," her voice was a hiss as she moved towards the door. "And then…you'll be his."

* * *


	30. Chapter 29

Ch. 29

Kathryn had made it through every rule of quantum physics she could think of during the night and had moved on to temporal rules and theories when she heard the lock on the door being thrown for a third time. The shallowest traces of morning light had just begun to show in the night sky, when the door opened to reveal a bleary eyed Kala.

The kitchen woman took one look around the room and shook her head. "If you want the girl to stay with me, she needs to be up. We've got work to do."

For a moment Kathryn had every intention of refusing. It wasn't even dawn yet and already Maddie would be put to work. It angered her to no end, but Kala was more astute than she appeared, stepping further into the room, closing the door behind her.

"You're no mythical demon. If you were, I wouldn't be seeing those circles under your eyes. Nor would I see the fear in them that you have for your daughter. I don't know who or what you are. Maybe little Maddie's stories have a bit of truth to them, but right now, you can't keep her safe." Kala moved boldly into the room and shook Maddie's foot to wake her, before turning back to Kathryn. "She needs to come with me."

The woman's casual observation both galled Kathryn and frightened her at the same time. She couldn't protect Maddie. It was that simple. So she nodded mutely, barely able to contain the gamut of emotions rushing through her much less express them, and in short order, the two of them had Maddie up and dressed if not completely awake, and leaving with Kala for the day. Scrubbing her hands over her face, Kathryn almost missed the entrance of two more women into her room.

"Now what?" she asked, but their mute gestures reminded her of who they were. Apparently it was time for her to visit the bathhouse again. She felt like screaming.

Two hours later, dressed in another shoulder and midriff-baring outfit, Kathryn found herself once again seated in the great hall. This time she was up on the dais itself but to the side and behind the king's throne. A plate of breads, cheeses, and fruit was situated next to her for her breakfast. So far this morning the hall was mostly deserted which made her wonder why she was there as she picked at the food, choosing to eat the fruit that reminded her of grapes. Without something to drink the bread and cheese was too dry to be palatable. As she sat with her ever present contingent of guards, several of whom she caught giving her peculiar glances, Kathryn couldn't help but feel tired.

The stress and lack of sleep was definitely catching up with her, and the lack of activity in the hall was not helping her. At least in her room, she could get up and pace, stretch her muscles out, but here she just felt like her mind was going numb with inaction. Popping another couple of grapes in her mouth, she appreciated the rush of juice as she bit into them and hoped they had some natural sugars to help her wake up. Kathryn began utilizing tricks she usually reserved for those uneventful shifts on the bridge. She began going over tactical scenarios. What if situations. Surveying the exits. Looking for weapons of opportunity. Trying to think of the best way to incapacitate her guards depending on how many there were.

And still she felt her train of thought slipping. Becoming more muddled. She shifted in her chair, leaning her chin against her palm as she imagined wresting away control of her guard's weapon and then using it…something tickled her nose and she swiped at it. She heard a chuckle and felt the tickle again. Kathryn gasped as her eyes shot open. The King stood in front of her, rolling a feather between his thumb and forefinger. She recoiled as if she'd been shot. She'd fallen asleep. She couldn't believe it, and looking around made it clear that it had been for more than just a few moments as the hall now seemed to be filled with gawking onlookers. The feather touched her forehead, drawing her attention back to the king as he trailed it lightly down her nose and over her lips and chin. She wanted to knock it away but her hand felt heavy.

"Ad-miral, if you wanted something to help you relax," he leaned over her towards the food plate, "you could have just asked for wine." He chuckled, popping a grape into his mouth.

Kathryn felt like she'd drunk an entire bottle of Romulan ale. Her entire body felt heavy with her mind wrapped in cotton. She watched his jaw move as he finished off the small piece of fruit. "What?" She looked towards the plate. "The grapes did this?"

He nodded, his hand caressing her bare shoulder. "But I must admit I'm glad to see you relaxing. I think, however, you've had enough for now." He signaled and a serving woman quickly removed the plate from the dais. "I have several important guests coming this morning, but after they leave the afternoon will be ours."

The king turned and clapped his hands together signaling for the day to start. Kathryn was trying to piece together what had just happened. It wasn't until she saw the imp move placidly to the king's side, receiving his praise that Kathryn understood. The guards peculiar looks. The lack of something to drink. She'd played right into the waif's hands. She couldn't fend off a physical attack right now much less a mental one. A cold chill swept over her and her head tipped back until it touched the back of the chair. She and the imp had been playing a dangerous game, and Kathryn had just lost.

* * *

The morning's audiences passed in a blur. More than once, a guard nudged Kathryn in the side, waking her from a stupor. She would straighten in her chair and attempt to once again marshal her thoughts. She wasn't having much luck, as her mind seemed prone to fantasies of Chakotay. She tried to convince herself they were just daydreams of the normal variety, but in the few moments of clarity that she managed, she knew better. The waif was simply keeping her in check, distracting her in small increments. Keeping her pliant.

At every new audience, Kathryn felt the king's lecherous gaze on her. He'd introduced her more than once and each time felt as though his possession of her name grew in confidence. Whether he knew the drugging had been intentional or not, he did know that the control of her now would be complete.

The current nobleman in front of the king concluded his audience and departed the chamber. Kathryn watched distractedly as an aide spoke quietly to the king. The malicious smile that spread across his face was grotesque. He saw her watching him and spoke loud enough to the aide for her to hear him.

"Make sure my chambers are ready. I anticipate spending many hours in them after this last appointment." The aide nodded even as he scurried towards the door. The king stood, and Kathryn had to concentrate to keep her eyes focused on him as he moved unhurriedly towards her. "I hope you can endure one more audience, my dear Kathryn. I think you'll enjoy this next one."

Kathryn tried to glare at him, but his chuckle suggested she had failed miserably, and unfortunately, a smart retort was out of the question at the moment. Unconcernedly, he turned his back on her when the doors at the far end of the hall opened. A party of five men strode inside, moving together up the length of the hall.

The guard next to Kathryn shifted his weight, and she looked up at him, thinking he was trying to get her attention again, but he wasn't watching her. She frowned. That was a first. He was one of the ones that had been like a shadow to her since she'd arrived. He was always keeping an eye on her, but this time he was looking past her. Taking longer than normal to digest that fact, Kathryn slowly turned, following his gaze, finding it on the newcomers to the hall.

They were obviously strangers in a strange land, and Kathryn managed to catch herself before she giggled, shuddering inwardly at the uncharacteristic behavior. Everything about the five men stood out as different from King Odaro's people. Whereas everyone normally present in the hall, which she belatedly realized had emptied quite a bit in the past few minutes, looked sturdy and wore thick clothes or armor, these five men appeared more like the waif. The cut and material of their clothes was more reminiscent of the idiotic outfits she'd been forced to wear on Milo's ship. Lightweight material that seemed to flow around them as they moved. Even their long dark hair that they wore loose seemed to defy gravity and movement, managing to stay tucked neatly behind their ears. Kathryn was fascinated. She fancied running her fingers through the smooth flowing strands. Then she huffed and threw another scathing look in the waif's direction. Between the imp's thoughts and the alcoholic effects of the fruit, Kathryn felt like a simpleton. Surely, there were other aspects she should be appraising besides how silky their hair must feel.

"I am Bachane. I am told you are King Odaro."

The leader's voice sounded like flint striking, immediately drawing Kathryn's attention back to him. His voice was quite hard, considering how fragile-looking he appeared. The five strangers had arranged themselves in a V shape with their leader standing at the tip closest to the dais. All the guards in the room seemed to stiffen at the man's antagonistic tone towards their sovereign. Kathryn stiffened at the look of utter loathing Bachane and his men cast her.

Odaro himself seemed completely unconcerned. "I've never heard of you, Bachane, but I'm told you come here seeking someone."

"Yes. My sister, Nichelle. I was told she was brought here." His solid black eyes flashed between Kathryn and the king as he spoke. "I was told she was brought…to you."

"Nichelle?" Odaro shook his head. "The name doesn't sound familiar. What does she look like?"

Bachane's features flushed a crimson color, and the man to his right answered the question. "She would've looked like us."

"I'm sorry," the king cocked his head to the side, "but did you say something? I didn't quite hear you."

The second man took a challenging step forward, but Bachane held up a hand stopping him. Odaro's guards had also reacted to the man's aggression. They looked to their king for guidance, and he moved them back with a wave of his hand.

"My sister," Bachane managed to bite out, "would've looked similar to us. Long dark hair, dark eyes, shorter than I in stature, but with skin as pale as the moons."

"Oh, yes," Odaro drawled out. He looked over his shoulder at Kathryn, his eyes raking over her. "I'd forgotten all about her."

"Is she here?" Bachane asked. Kathryn could hear the note of hope in his voice, which unfortunately meant that everyone else could as well.

Clearly enjoying himself, the king slowly returned his attention back to Bachane. "No, she is no longer here." He sniffed derisively. "She and I were quite _active_ together, but I'm afraid she was a rather…_fragile_ thing. She didn't hold up well at all under the rigorous circumstances."

All of Bachane's men flushed the crimson color, and more than one made some sort of hand gesture, touching their forehead and chest. Kathryn felt sickened at the king's innuendo. His casually offered statements had not been misunderstood by Bachane, either. His nostrils were flared as his breathing had become harsh staccato gasps. "She is dead then?"

Odaro nodded, smiling openly.

Kathryn wanted to offer Bachane comfort. Clearly, the loss of his sister hit him hard, but she hoped that would make the two of them allies of a sort. He had more reason than she did at this point to hate the king, but pointing a shaking finger at Kathryn, Bachane dashed those hopes with his next words.

"And her?" he growled. "Is _she_ the reason you tired of my sister so readily?"

"Well, of course," Odaro laughed at the man's indignation. "Have you taken a good look at her? She's everything your sister was not."

The king began listing her qualities, and Bachane's furious eyes settled on Kathryn. As his hatred seared across her, she realized belatedly that she'd been mistakenly lumped into the same category as Odaro. As far as Bachane was concerned, she was every bit as guilty of his sister's death as the king was. And if his thoughts were as dark as his eyes, Kathryn knew she would pay dearly for this assumption. If only she could convince him otherwise…

"After all, Kathryn is a sensual woman," Odaro's voice drew Bachane's eyes away from Kathryn, "and your sister was really nothing more than a child."

"Yes," Bachane replied quietly, "she was a child. The third child of my father, the ruling magistrate of Serone Ladasia." His voice was picking up volume and strength as he spoke. "No one touches a child of the magistrate, and for that crime alone you would be punished on my world. For the other atrocities you have alluded to, there is only one punishment: death."

Kathryn was well aware that her senses and reflexes were not one hundred percent at the moment, but she never saw Bachane or his men move. He simply finished speaking, and all hell broke loose.

Explosions ripped through the hall, and smoke filled the area where the five lithe men had been standing. Kathryn was knocked out of her chair and onto the stone steps of the dais as weapons fire erupted in the hall. Pieces of grit rained down on her, and she instinctively covered her head with her arms. Smoke choked the hall, and she tried to get to her feet. A hand pushed down on her shoulder, over balancing her, and she fell again. Several wet thuds impacted above her, and Kathryn felt a spray of liquid hit her back and shoulder. It could only be one thing. She managed to look up in time to see the guard that had been like her shadow collapse to the floor beside her. He'd probably been the one to push her down. He'd probably saved her life.

Another explosion rocked the hall, and Kathryn stumbled. Her hand caught hold of something that felt sturdy, and she managed to make out through the smoke that she was holding onto the arm of Odaro's throne. She immediately wondered where he was. Looking out towards the smoke filled hall, Kathryn barely had time to register the shadow rushing at her before she felt a hard weight slam into her, knocking her down.

Hands pawed at her, turning her over onto her back, pinning her there with unnecessary force. Blinking against the spots in her vision, she saw Bachane looming over her. "Wait…" she coughed, "wait, you don't…understand."

"I don't understand?" he hissed at her, grabbing her by the hair. "You sit at his side! You took my sister's place! She never wanted this, but perhaps, if you hadn't been in such a hurry to warm his bed, she'd still be alive. I could have saved her!"

He slammed her head back against the step, and blinding pain exploded behind her eyes. Kathryn's hold on the conscious world slipped another notch and clear thinking became impossible. "Not…my choice…"

Bachane held a bloody knife in front of her face. "Your king's heart has already felt my blade. Now you will share his fate." Kathryn's eyes widened as he drew the long blade high above his head. "May the two of you spend eternity together."

He brought the sharpened metal down in a harsh arc and Kathryn screamed as the blade cut mercilessly through muscle and flesh stopping only when the tip of the blade knicked the stone of the steps beneath her.

* * *


	31. Chapter 30

Ch. 30

The last half second without sight as he materialized on the planet's surface was almost more time than Chakotay could bear. But when he could see, the sight that greeted his eyes was devastating. Dust choked the air, bodies lay scattered in the room, and the smell of cordite hung heavy in the air. He and the away team had just arrived at ground zero for what had obviously been a heavy fire fight. The entire away team seemed frozen in place as they visually scanned the large hall.

"Spread out. Scan the area," Chakotay choked out. They had to move quickly. They needed to get in and out as fast as possible. But they had to find them first. Kathryn and Madelyn. They simply had to be here. Chakotay didn't think he'd be able to handle it if they tracked them all the way down to here only to lose them now.

The sensors they had on the_ Pendragon _had barely been able to confirm life signs on the planet. B'Elanna flipped out her tricorder next to him and growled in frustration. "There's still nothing. Whatever stone they built this place with it's blocking anything further than a meter out."

"We'll just have to search then," Chakotay said, moving forward, stepping over the body of a fallen armored soldier.

"Projectile weapons, Chakotay," B'Elanna said, taking a closer scan of the corpse. "This guy is riddled with…holes."

"Captain! I think you should take a look at this," Ayala called. He was at the end of the hall on a platform of raised steps. He had his tricorder out and he looked grim.

"What is it?" Chakotay asked, hurrying over.

Ayala gestured downwards to a dark stain on the light colored stone of the dais. "It's hers, Chak. Kathryn's blood."

Chakotay knelt down, running his fingers over the stain. It was a significant amount, but not life threatening, at least not if it was stopped soon enough. His fingers came away dusty but stained with red that hadn't yet soaked into the cold stone. It was fresh. His head snapped up and he looked around. She couldn't have gone far. Not with an injury like that. "KATHRYN!!"

B'Elanna jumped at his bellow and the other members of the team all quickly turned to him, but he didn't care. She had to be close. "KATHRYN!!" She couldn't have made it far…not on her own, but what if she hadn't been on her own. Whoever killed all these soldiers could have taken her… "KATHRYN!!"

"Chakotay," B'Elanna said quietly by his side. He had descended from the dais without even realizing it. She opened her mouth to say more when he looked at her but no words came out.

The sound of something being slid across stone had them all turning and aiming weapons at the source of the noise. It was a side door leading off the main hall. Only the top half of the door was visible because of its location and they watched silently as it seemed to slowly open of its own accord. No one came through it. Chakotay and B'Elanna exchanged a wary glance and began to move cautiously as one towards it.

"DADDY!!" Madelyn's small figure burst into the hall, running full speed at Chakotay.

He dropped his phaser and knelt down, catching his daughter as she hurled herself into his arms. He was making incoherent sounds as he wrapped his arms around her, scooping her up with him as he stood. She was here, in his arms. Real. Solid. Tears were streaming down his face as he held her tight against him. Feeling absolute elation at finding her.

Maddie was just as happy. Covering him with kisses and hugging his neck. "I told her. I told her you'd come!"

Not wanting to let go of her, Chakotay leaned his daughter back slightly so he could see her face. "Where is she, Maddie? Where's Mom?"

"Put…my daughter. Down. Now."

Kathryn's razor sharp voice snapped across the room catching everyone by surprise. They'd all been so caught up in the reunion they had failed to see her enter the hall. But now she had everyone's attention.

Chakotay looked past Madelyn's shoulder and saw Kathryn for the first time in almost a month. She looked like hell. Her normally porcelain features were now a ghastly pale. Blood soaked her shoulder and upper torso staining her clothes a dark crimson. She was leaning against what was left of a column for support, and she was aiming a weapon right at Chakotay.

She was still the best thing Chakotay had ever seen, but he also knew how dangerous Kathryn could be and he slowly knelt down far enough for Maddie's feet to touch the floor. "Kathryn? It's me, Chakotay."

"It's okay, Mama. It's really him. He's here." Maddie tried while everyone else remained as still as the bodies littering the floor.

"Maddie, come over here by me," Kathryn said, her voice rough but steady, unlike the arm supporting the weapon aimed at Chakotay which was shaking badly.

"Go on," Chakotay encouraged his daughter. "She needs you right now."

Maddie reluctantly let go of her father's hand and went back to stand by Kathryn, who immediately moved to put her daughter behind her.

"Kathryn…you're hurt. We need to get you out of here," Chakotay tried.

She shook her head from side to side. "You…aren't…really here."

"Mama, he is," Maddie said, touching Kathryn's waist. "I see him this time."

Kathryn glanced down at her daughter who nodded encouragingly. She glanced back up at Chakotay, studying him.

"Just…don't move," she warned him, slowly lowering the weapon and shifting it to her left hand that she was keeping tight against her body. She grimaced as the weight settled into her hand, and Chakotay had to stop himself from moving towards her. Giving him a warning look, she spoke to Maddie, "Go back over to the side door-"

"Mom-"

"Don't argue with me." Kathryn cut off her protest. "Just go over there, and if I say the word you run. Do you understand me?"

Maddie glanced at Chakotay for support, but he just nodded for her to go. This was taking too long, but he was damned if he cared. If Kathryn wanted to drag this out for a week, he'd wait. He looked back to his wife and he could see the war behind her eyes. She wanted to believe him; he could tell, but something was holding her back. Something had happened to make her think he wasn't who he said he was and that bothered him immensely.

Only after checking to make sure Maddie had done as she was told did Kathryn motion for Chakotay to approach her. She let him get within arm's reach before she stopped him, the weapon never wavering in its aim. The fact that he made no move to touch her emboldened her and she reached her right hand out to his face.

Chakotay thought he'd never felt anything quite as heavenly as Kathryn's shaking fingertips sweeping lightly over the lines of his tattoo. He held her eyes, pleading with his for her to see him.

"You're…real?" she asked softly, hesitantly.

He nodded his breathing unsteady. "Please, Kathryn, let me help you."

"Kiss me."

"What?" he asked, surprised.

"You heard me," she said firmly. "Kiss me."

Moving slowly, he closed the last bit of distance between them. A tear rolled down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb, lightly cupping her chin with his hand. He leaned down, his lips softly meeting hers. Despite how much he wanted to take her in his arms, he kept it gentle and slowly moved back after only a few moments. Tears were freely rolling down both of their faces as he searched her eyes.

"Chakotay." She threw her good arm around his neck, hauling herself against him. He grunted as the weapon she still held dug painfully into his abdomen.

"Kathryn, the weapon…" he managed and then felt it hit his boot a second before she went limp against him. He leaned back to look at her and her head lolled limply against his chest. "Shit. Doctor, get over here. She's passed out."

"Mom?" Maddie had rejoined them from her hiding place. B'Elanna came up behind her, putting a reassuring and restraining hand on the girl's shoulder. "Is she going to be okay? She said she was tired."

"She's lost a lot of blood," the Doctor said quietly, glancing cautiously over at Maddie. "We need to get her back to the ship."

"Chakotay to Tuvok, five to beam directly to sickbay," he said, standing up with Kathryn now cradled in his arms. It'd be a long time before he would feel comfortable letting go of her.

* * *


	32. Chapter 31

Ch. 31

Kathryn opened her eyes slowly, blinking several times to clear her vision. She'd been having a dreamless sleep for a change and she actually felt rested. Looking closer at the lighted ceiling above her, she realized she had no idea where she was. Lifting her head slightly, she was able to see her surroundings a bit clearer and was thankful for perhaps the first time to find herself clothed in starfleet medical blue. The beeps and sounds of the sickbay were comforting to her in a strange way despite knowing it wasn't _Voyager _she was on. What she found to be even more comforting, she was also able to see Chakotay, sitting in a chair next to the bed, hunched over with his head partially buried on his folded arms. Kathryn frowned; he was really going to be sore when he woke up. Her eyes flicked away from him when she caught movement to her left.

"Welcome back, Admiral." The Doctor approached the side of the bed, keeping his voice low for a change. "He's been there for hours."

Having assessed the Doctor wasn't a threat, Kathryn immediately returned her attention to Chakotay. She didn't want to take her eyes off him. She was glad he was on her right side so she could see the lines of his tattoo. Her fingers twitched, she wanted to touch him. To touch his face. To feel the comforting sensation of tracing her hand across his features. Not thinking about it, she tried to sit up and prop herself up on her elbows so she could reach him. Unexpected pain shot through her left shoulder at the movement and she gasped. Chakotay's head shot up as he launched himself to his feet.

"That isn't exactly an action I'd recommend doing just yet," the Doctor chided her even as he reached out to steady her. "I would've said so sooner, but you wouldn't have listened to me anyway."

Kathryn glared at him, managing a breathless reply. "Thank you...Doctor."

He eased her back to a lying position. "The muscles and tendons have all been healed by my usual excellent standard of care, but you'll feel some lingering tenderness for a day or so. Thankfully you're…"

She wasn't listening to him anymore. Chakotay stood over her, hair askew, staring at her as though he were still dreaming. She smiled up at him. "Hi."

A short chuckle escaped him, and his dimples appeared. "Hi."

"Admiral?" the Doctor looked up from his tricorder when she didn't respond to his question. He sighed, seeing the two of them staring at each other. He should've known better than to try and talk to her now. Rolling his eyes, he retreated to the medical console to enter in his new data.

Kathryn lifted her hand up and Chakotay interlaced his fingers with hers. Leaning down, he kissed her gently, stroking her face with his thumb. Retaking his seat, he couldn't help holding her hand against his face. "You gave us quite a scare, you know."

"I know," she said, extracting her hand from his so she could run her fingertips over his face. She smiled as her fingers threaded into his hair, over his ear, curling down behind it. She liked following the line of his tattoo even where she could no longer see it. "You took long enough getting there you know."

He chuckled again, reveling in her touch. "I know. Our daughter has already informed me of the importance of being prompt."

Kathryn smiled again. It felt like it had been too long since she'd had reason to. "Where is she?" she frowned. "For that matter, where am I?"

"_USS Pendragon_. Admiral Patterson sends his regards," Chakotay said, indicating the ship with his hand, "and Maddie is with B'Elanna, they've both been asleep for almost twelve hours now. They're exhausted, all though, neither of them would ever admit it."

"No, they wouldn't," Kathryn agreed quietly. "Is that how long I've been asleep?"

Chakotay's smile disappeared. "You've been asleep for about ten hours. You were unconscious for about four hours before that."

With some difficulty and ignoring the Doctor's noise of protest, Kathryn rolled onto her right side so she could face her husband better. "How bad was it?"

"You don't remember?" he asked, reaching out a hand to tuck her hair back.

The corner of her mouth quirked upwards slightly. "I remember some of it. I remember you balking when I wanted you to kiss me."

"That's what you remember? Out of everything…"

"Well, it was the first time I'd ever gotten that reaction from you. It was memorable."

Chakotay sobered. "You didn't think it was me, did you?"

"No." Her smile faded. "After…everything, it just seemed too good to be true. And I couldn't trust…anything, really."

"Once he examined you, the Doctor was surprised that you had even been conscious. The loss of blood alone should've been enough, and add to that a concussion and some sort of intoxicant in your system. He was at a loss for how you had been on your feet at all."

Kathryn shrugged her shoulder and then grimaced at the twinge of pain that shot through her. "That's easy. Maddie. I _had_ to find Maddie. She was the only thing I could think of."

_Kathryn groaned and blinking her eyes open, stared up at the ceiling of the great hall. This was two times too many that she found herself in this position. There was a haze of smoke hanging stagnant in the air obscuring her view, but the ceiling appeared to be intact. That was good. Not having to worry about the ceiling falling on her was one less thing. Not that she cared, really. She had more pressing concerns at the moment as she thought perhaps a supernova had exploded inside her skull. Surely that would explain the pulsating thrum of pain behind her eyes that seemed to be keeping in time with the waves of rolling fire starting at her shoulder and sweeping across her torso. She hated to do it, but she rolled her head to the side and looked down. Her shoulder was a bloody mess, but at least it didn't still have the knife sticking out of it. Bachane must've taken it with him. _

_Bachane. He'd stabbed her. Tried to kill her. How had she forgotten that crucial piece of information? Kathryn scrambled her hands against the stone steps, forcing herself to sit up. The sudden movement made her cry out and all the blood rushing away from her head, darkened her vision. Concentrating on her breathing, she fought back the black edges of unconsciousness. She couldn't afford to pass out again… not now, not when… she paused as her surroundings came into focus for the first time. Her mouth went dry at the sight before her. The bodies of the guards littered the floor around her. All of them were motionless and now that she was aware of her surroundings the silence was deafening. Not only had the attack from Bachane and his men been swift, it had been completely lethal. Each wound designed to be a killing blow. _

_So why was she still alive? And why had no one come to offer aid? Had Bachane killed everyone in the castle? Oh. God. Maddie. She had to…get up…to find her. Using her good arm and with a cry of pain, she pulled her left arm against her body, hoping to hold it there and reduce the movement of her shoulder. Just as she pushed herself to her feet, Kathryn spotted the waif at the other side of the dais. She may have appeared to look like Bachane, but she had obviously fared no better with them. Her small crumpled form was half hidden under a bench, but the stain of blood on her white gown was large enough that Kathryn didn't feel the need to check for signs of life. She did, however, see a weapon lying on the steps beside the overturned throne, and that was something worth using the extra energy to go and pick up._

_Kathryn stumbled the five or so steps over to it. Gritting her teeth, she leaned down to pick it up, thankful her right arm and hand were uninjured. It was heavier than a phaser, but it seemed to work on the same mechanics. Securing her grip on it, she turned to leave, when something brushed against her ankle. Startled, she almost fell against the throne as she backed away from the contact, swinging the weapon down to bear on whatever had touched her. _

_A pale outstretched hand fell limply to the floor, the once strong fingers curling slightly as though still reaching for her. The raised markings on the king's arm stood out now in contrast more than ever before. Odaro was still alive...barely. He suffered from the same wound she had only he was clearly dying from his. His skin was now paler than hers and blood continued to flow freely across his torso, pooling beneath him on the stone steps. _

_His dark eyes slowly rose to meet hers. "You still walk…truly are…demon." His words came in gasping breaths. "Save me."_

_Kathryn lowered the weapon back to her side. He was clearly no longer a threat. For an interminable moment she considered him. Considered the weapon in her hand. She knew she couldn't save him, but she could ease his suffering. Something crashed to the floor further down the hall, and she looked up, scanning the hall, seeing nothing her eyes rested on the side door. She needed to find Maddie. She took a step towards the door. _

_Odaro coughed and thumped his outstretched hand against the steps. "I still…command you!"_

"_No. You don't." She took another step away from him. "You never did."_

"_Jane…way-" The last syllable of her name ended in a gargle deep in his throat and his outstretched hand dropped to the stone. _

"_And you never will," she said, watching unconcernedly as the last breath left his body. Barely raising an eyebrow, she headed again for the door._

Kathryn fell quiet and watched Chakotay's face as he digested everything she'd just told him. He never blinked, never took his eyes off of her, and his thumb traced continuous circles against her palm. "According to the limited scans the Doctor took on the planet, their central organ or heart was located in the area of the shoulder," he explained. "Lucky for you."

"Lucky," she muttered and shook her head. "Everything gets hazy after that. I know I made it through the door, I think I saw a tree…"

"Maddie said she found you staggering halfway down the corridor leading to the kitchen. Some woman had made her hide under a trap door in the kitchen?"

"Kala," Kathryn supplied fearfully, now wondering what the fate had been of the woman that had watched over her daughter. It was likely she'd never find out.

Chakotay nodded, "Yes, Kala. She told Maddie not to come out until either she came back or you came and got her, but you know how well Maddie follows instructions. Once she didn't hear any voices anymore, she crawled out of her hiding place and went looking for you."

"God, Chakotay she could have been…" Kathryn took a deep breath in. "We have really got to talk to her about that."

"More than talk," he agreed before continuing. "She said when she found you she knew you were hurt, but that you just kept telling her you were tired. And then she heard me calling for you."

"You mean, I didn't imagine that?" She gave him a small smile. "Hearing my name echoing through the castle loud enough to shake the dust from the walls."

Chakotay tugged at his ear. "It worked, didn't it? You came back to me."

"Always," she said softly, "and you came after me."

"Always," he replied, smiling. "So who was this Bachane? And how do we find him?"

"We don't. He's suffered enough, and it was really just a case of mistaken identity." Kathryn reluctantly rolled back onto her back, the increasing throb in her shoulder convincing her.

Chakotay stood so he could still watch her face. "And who did he think you were?"

"He thought I was culpable in killing his sister," she explained, "but I never even saw her. Odaro had tired of her and killed her before I was ever even on the planet." Chakotay paled at her explanation. "What is it?"

"Powell had mentioned that another family was looking for the king for the same reasons I was, but I never thought that if they found him first they'd assume you were in on it."

"Who's Powell?" Kathryn asked even as she stifled a yawn.

"He was at the house where you were bought." He gave her a small smile. "Seems we both have a lot to catch each other up on, but you need to get some rest."

She nodded her eyes already half closed. "One more thing though."

"Yes?"

"Where's Milo?"

Chakotay almost laughed. Her voice had dropped almost two octaves. It was probably a good thing he hadn't kept Milo on board. "Harry has control of his ship and its crew, including Cyronius. They're enroute back to Earth. They'll probably get there a day ahead of us. Admiral Patterson has been helping us so I'm sure he'll have the head of Starfleet Security awaiting their arrival."

"Good," Kathryn mumbled. "Admiral Botive was always a hard old miser."

"You really did hit your head," Chakotay chuckled. "Botive died while we were still in the Delta Quadrant. Brislin is in charge now."

"Brislin!" Kathryn's eyes shot open and she sat straight up, all traces of tiredness and pain gone. "Chakotay, he's the one! Brislin is the one that was behind it all."

* * *

:)


	33. Chapter 32

Ch. 32

Admiral Brislin thumped his hand down on his desk. It had been two hours since he'd received any messages of any kind, and now, at the end of the day, most people would be going home for the weekend. He'd already called the engineers in charge of the comm. system and been assured they were working on a system wide problem. What he couldn't tell them and what they didn't understand was that he'd been expecting to see the latest report from security concerning incidents between Starfleet ships and non-regulated vessels. It was a long and tedious report that most of the admiralty barely skimmed before deleting, but to him it would contain valuable information. Information that could invariably alert him to the impending demise of his career or assure him of his invulnerability.

It had been twelve days since Chakotay had walked away from him at Mercado's house. Twelve days and Brislin hadn't heard a word about Milo Cyronius or Kathryn Janeway. He hadn't seen any reports of unauthorized missions or hijacked ships. Mercado had been taken into custody, but he hadn't said a word to anyone about anything. He'd immediately lawyered up and taken his right to remain silent to heart. Brislin wasn't even sure Mercado knew about _his_ connection in the whole matter anyway. The only report of any interest that had crossed his desk concerning the topic foremost on his mind had been a query from the _Voyager_ refit crew. They had been informed the entire senior staff of _Voyager_ had taken leave and they wanted to know who to forward their current progress reports to.

Admiral Patterson had stepped up, accepting all _Voyager_ reports for the foreseeable future. That had made Brislin suspicious since he knew perfectly well the crew was up to something involving the recovery of Janeway, but Patterson had no personal connection whatsoever to _Voyager_ or its crew that Brislin could find. He'd taught Janeway and half of her crew in classes at the academy over the years, but that went for more than half of Starfleet. If that were a lasting connection, Brislin himself would be in contact with hundreds of students that he'd trained in security classes, and that just wasn't the case.

To be safe though, Brislin had made the effort to run into Patterson, to try and feel the man out. After all he had the perfect excuse, Chakotay and several of his crew had been implicated and involved with the incident at Mercado's house. Brislin had used that as his reason for dropping by Patterson's office, but as Mercado had so far refused to talk about the incident, there had been no charges filed yet against the _Voyager_ crew. Patterson had shrugged it off, stating that was only one of the reasons the senior staff had been granted their leave request. Post traumatic stress and all after losing their former captain. He'd implicated to Brislin that if any charges were brought against them, they'd be handled in-house upon their return from leave. Brislin knew the attack on Mercado hadn't had anything to do with post traumatic stress, but Patterson had been believable and Brislin knew a thing or two about lying. He decided that Patterson was just another fan of the _Voyager_ crew. He probably picked up their work load so he could tour the ship whenever he wanted.

The conversation with Patterson hadn't changed anything for Brislin though. He knew that Chakotay, Paris, even that Borg woman were up to something. He was just surprised he hadn't heard about it yet. And he would have. He hadn't changed his routine at all. He'd continued to come into the office for his normal hours, attend his regular meetings, read over and approve reports and requests, and generally act as any innocent man would. Until the evidence walked through his office door, he planned to continue on as he always had. He saw no reason not to. Aside from Milo, the only other person that knew about his involvement was involved too. He and his future son-in-law had personally disposed of the crew that had kidnapped Janeway only hours after she'd been taken off planet. So unless, Chakotay actually caught up with Milo, which the odds of that seemed to be decreasing with every day that passed, Brislin felt somewhat secure in the knowledge that he may be able to retire with honors after all.

But in order to calm his gnawing fears, he needed that report. He mashed a button to activate his console and received only a blank screen. Now he couldn't even call and harass the engineers about the problem. Using his internal comm. system he buzzed the lieutenant sitting outside his office and felt relief that at least that call went through.

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you have that report I asked for?"

"No, sir. They haven't sent it up," the aide said in a bored voice. "Would you like me to go down personally and pick it up?"

"No. I'll go. I want to have a word with that captain down there about timeliness. There're more important things than running off to start your weekend."

"Aye, sir."

Brislin shut off the line, ignoring the resigned tone of his aide. He was sure the man himself had been trying to get out of the office as well. Heading out of his office and towards the lift, Brislin noted that his aide's work station was indeed already closed down. "In a hurry to go somewhere, Lieutenant?"

"Of course not, sir. Would you like me to wait for you to return?"

Brislin considered it, with the comm. system down, he certainly wasn't going to miss any calls, and he wasn't expecting anyone. He nodded tersely. "Fine. Go home. I will see you bright and early on Monday morning."

"Aye, sir."

Brislin shook his head as he entered the lift. The lieutenants he got assigned passed through his office every couple of months, and they were always in a hurry to be on to the next thing. He barely got one trained before the next one showed up as a replacement. He envied those admirals that kept the same office staff year after year, and wondered who they bribed at assignments in order to do so. It never occurred to him that his aides were requesting transfers away from him.

The trip down to the security office and back took no time at all. Captain Martov had just had the shift turned over to him and wasn't the one responsible for the report being late. That didn't stop Brislin from giving him a piece of his mind anyway, but his heart wasn't really in it. All he cared about was that he now had the report in hand, and he'd be able to see if Chakotay had managed to get himself noticed yet. Brislin used the time in the lift to open and scan through the report. He'd read it in its entirety to make sure he didn't miss anything, but he felt relief that looking over it he didn't see any mentions of Milo or Chakotay. Breathing a little easier, he walked through his office door, and stopped in his tracks.

Someone was sitting behind his desk. The plush, high backed chair was turned away from him concealing the occupant, but it rocked backwards slightly as though someone had just taken a seat in it. Brislin was shocked. "I don't know who you think you are to come in here unannounced…"

The chair spun around allowing him an unobstructed view of the person sitting in it. "Kathryn Janeway," she announced succinctly. "I believe we've met."

Brislin stared, finding himself at a loss for words. And then all the pieces began to fall into place in his mind. The lack of reports. The communication black out. As head of security, he'd put those things into effect many times against other people, he should've recognized it for what it was, but he never thought it would happen to him.

"I hope you don't mind," Janeway said, taking a sip from a steaming mug she held in one of her hands, "but I helped myself to some coffee. You do know how much I enjoy it, don't you?" At his continued blank expression, she leaned back in the chair. "The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated," she paused, "but then, I suppose you already know that, too."

The tone of her voice had started out playful, but it had unmistakably deepened until now it had a hard edge to it. Brislin sighed, "I don't suppose it would do any good for me to say that I don't know what you're talking about."

The blue of her eyes crystallized at his flippant remark, and it occurred to him belatedly that he had underestimated her from the very beginning.

"Tell me why." It wasn't a question. It was a demand.

Brislin raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"I want to hear your version."

He sighed and moved forward, she immediately put her free hand on the phaser holstered at her hip. Ignoring her reaction, he lowered himself wearily into the chair across from her. "It was you or my daughter. I chose her."

Kathryn's nostrils flared. "And the only reason she was in danger to begin with was because of _you_."

He nodded.

"Why didn't you bring it to Starfleet?" she asked, shaking her head. "They could have protected her."

"You have no idea how high this reaches-"

"The Federation Council?" she supplied, cutting him off, surprising him. "Oh yes, I know all about Mister Mercado. He's been talking to us all week."

"What?"

"He's been quite cooperative in exchange for leniency." The corner of her mouth quirked slightly. "You didn't think we would actually let you get to him, did you?"

He floundered in his response. "I don't understand. You couldn't have gotten back to this system-"

"Admiral Patterson has kept me well informed of recent events." She paused. "He also thought, that perhaps, given the chance, you might turn yourself in. You are a Starfleet admiral, after all." Her facial expression showed her displeasure at the notion. "Unfortunately, you continued to show your true colors. Content to sit and wait. See how the chips would fall." She put the coffee cup down on the desk and leaned forward. "Just how did you see this playing out? Early retirement? No one ever the wiser to your part in all this?"

"The only thing I was ever concerned about," he tried, "was my daughter's safety."

"So. Was. I." She bit the words out so distinctly he actually flinched. Kathryn took a deep breath in an attempt to hold on to her temper. "Did it ever occur to you what kind of life you would have sentenced my daughter to? She is _six_ years old, and you allowed her to be sold into slavery."

"That was never my intent."

"Bullshit. You knew _exactly_ what you were doing. You _knew_ they would need a way to coerce me to cooperate."

He remained silent in the face of her accusations.

She shook her head. "How many lives, Admiral? How many lives have you endangered just to cover up your secrets? You _knew_ about Milo's operations…and you did _nothing_. You are the head of Starfleet Security. You could have dismantled his entire operation. And yet you did _nothing_. Innocent children sold into the worst kind of slavery, and you _allowed_ it to happen. You disgust me."

"I'm…sorry."

Kathryn scoffed at his apology. "That means nothing to me. You're just sorry you got caught." A light knock on the door made Kathryn look up. She jerked her chin for the person to come in. "Admiral, I believe you've met my husband, Captain Chakotay."

Chakotay walked past where the Admiral was sitting and parked his hip on the corner of the desk. "Kathryn wanted to be the one to confront you, but I was more interested in your commander. It seems you two have been working together in more than just security. Where is Commander Hughes, Admiral?"

"Hughes?" Brislin asked apathetically.

"Commander. Hughes," Chakotay said distinctly. "The one you put in charge of Kathryn's investigation."

"The same commander that just happened to stop by my office the day I was abducted," Kathryn interjected. "I remembered him when Chakotay mentioned his name to me on our way back here, and since then we've done some digging. Hughes came by to deliver a report about security arrangements at the conference I was going to. Arrangements that I had already been briefed on earlier that morning. I didn't think anything of it at the time, a simple miscommunication, but that's how you knew I was going home that afternoon. Did you steal my speech notes as well?"

"No," Brislin said, sounding very resigned, "but we knew you would be taking your daughter to your mother's house. We were going to intercept you there. When you went to your home instead, we took advantage of the opportunity."

"The opportunity?" Kathryn was furious. She didn't even want to think about what they'd had in mind to do to her mother. Then again, knowing her mother, none of this may have happened had she been involved. The thugs that had dared to lay a hand on Madelyn would have been vaporized on the spot. "Just how long had you been watching me?"

"Long enough." Brislin picked at some lint on his pants. "We had several contingencies planned."

"Contingencies?" Chakotay snarled. His patience was gone. If he, or Kathryn for that matter, stayed in the same vicinity as the Admiral for much longer, they really would end up in trouble. He repeated his question from earlier. "Where is Commander Hughes, Admiral?"

"He's gone. He and my daughter took a vacation together. I imagine they've already eloped by now," he said, his voice only slightly bitter. "He'll take care of her." He looked straight at Janeway. "I told you, her safety is all I was ever after."

Janeway tapped her comm. badge harder than necessary. "Janeway to Tuvok. Brislin is ready to be taken into custody."

"Aye, Admiral." There was an audible beep of a console over the open comm. line, and Brislin disappeared in a shimmer of blue light.

Chakotay stared at the empty space the Admiral had occupied for a moment before glancing over his shoulder at Kathryn. She sat rigidly in the chair, staring at nothing, her hands clenched tightly on the armrests of the chair. The air in the room practically sparked with the energy radiating from her. He would wait for her to vent her anger first. His fury was no less than hers, but at the moment his was less volatile. It would keep until he could step into a boxing ring. But he knew her well, and hers would need to be addressed very soon.

He didn't have to wait long. He heard the heels of her boots stomp the floor as she pushed the chair away from the desk with more force than necessary, and she was on her feet, pacing. Her hands were balled into white knuckled fists. When her clipped steps brought her up short, facing the wall, she spun on the balls of her feet, prepared to pace to the other wall. She caught him watching her.

"What?" she snapped.

Chakotay raised his eyebrows at her in silent question.

"Don't give me that look." She crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "I'm not ready to be calm, yet."

"All right," he agreed easily. "What do you want to do? Join up with Powell?" At her confused look he continued. "I got a message from him just before we got here. He and the witch have teamed up. They're going after the list of buyers involved that aren't in Starfleet or here on Earth."

For a moment, Chakotay feared he'd miscalculated. Kathryn had a look in her eye that meant she was seriously considering his proposal. Not that he could blame her really. It would be very easy to pick up that cause and go with their two strange new friends, but vigilante justice wasn't a mantle he was in a hurry to pick up again. And except for that incident with Ransom and the Equinox, it wasn't really in Kathryn's nature either.

He was relieved when the hard glint left her eyes and she shook her head. "No, Chakotay. As much as I'd like to….as much as I may enjoy it…no." She dropped her arms from across her chest, releasing the last of her frustrated energy. "And truth be told, I probably wouldn't enjoy it. Not really."

"No, you wouldn't," he agreed quietly, thinking of Sveta and the haunted looked that had returned to her eyes. He knew his old friend would eventually find her peace again, but for now he needed to help Kathryn find hers. Moving closer to his wife, he leaned against the wall next to her. "The task they've set for themselves won't be easy."

"They might do some good, though," she said, quietly. "If they find any of the…children."

"That's who you're really worried about, isn't it?" Chakotay asked even though he'd already known the answer. Survivor's guilt was something Kathryn was very good at it, and he'd been waiting for her to get around to it.

Kathryn nodded. "I only saw three of them, Chakotay, and even those three I couldn't help. I couldn't protect them."

"You protected Maddie."

"Not really," she muttered.

"Hey." He stepped in front of her now so he could be face to face with her. "Cut it out, Kathryn. Madelyn is safe because you kept her that way. You made decisions that kept her from being harmed. You. No one else. Those other kids weren't as lucky, but we're doing everything that we can now to help them. Everything that we can do to keep it from happening again." She still looked doubtful so he continued. "Now if you are dead set on beating someone up over this…I happen to know where Patterson has a certain one-of-a-kind 'art' dealer locked up."

Kathryn knew what he was doing and managed a wry grin. "Too easy."

"Hmmm…" Chakotay pursed his lips. "What about an alien woman with blue hair?"

Kathryn frowned. "I…don't…know…" She hedged not wanting Chakotay to know she didn't think she actually could take Sheila in a fight.

"I'll let you take Maddie with you," he offered. "I hear she's quite a shin kicker."

Kathryn's smile brightened. "Throw in a phaser rifle and you've got a date."

He smiled broadly, offering her his arm.

"Let's forget the brig," she said, looping her arm through his. "Take me home, Chakotay."

"Aye, ma'am."

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_Notes: Thank you everyone for sticking with me and reading this story. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. I truly appreciate the feedback you've given me! _

_I'd like to take this chance to once again thank my awesome beta QS. And apologize. QS did a lot of work for me on this story and somewhere between transferring it back and forth, I lost about half of her corrections. So, quite literally...any mistakes are mine. ;) _


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